SUNSET 

LIBRARY 

1278  20th.  Avenue 
San  Francisco,  Calif. 


*  =•   L 


RIME  XTTHTWlA^QmiA  is  a  baffling 
mystery  story  which  the  reader  will  want 
to  finish  at  a  sitting.  George  Norsworthy,  who 
iknows  the  Riviera  so  well,  has  chosen  Roque- 
brune-Cap-Martin,  with  its  bougainvillaea-clad 
villas  and  its  terraced  gardens  perfumed  with 
orange  blossom,  as  his  setting. 

Martin  Crow,  K.C.,  the  famous  criminal 
lawyer,  who  made  his  first  appearance  in  The 
House-Party  Mystery,  is  the  central  figure  in 
this  new  story.  Accompanied  by  his  daughter, 
Gerry,  he  sets  himself  the  extremely  difficult 
task  of  proving,  against  over-whelming  evidence, 
[that  Michael  Maguire  was  not  responsible  for 
the  death  of  his  eccentric  aunt  from  whom  he 
inherits  a  large  fortune. 

This  is  undoubtedly  George  Norsworthy's 
best  story. 


CRIME  AT  THE  VILLA  GLORIA 


AUTHOR   OP 

CASINO 

DAMES-ERRANT 

A   HOUSE-PARTY   MYSTERY 


GEORGE  NORSWORTHY 


NEW  YORK 
GREENBERG  :   PUBLISHER 


To  E.A.N. 

My  dear  Buff, 

Since  you  are  an  insatiable  reader  of  thrillers,  and 
since  I  know  that  you  often  sigh  for  the  terraced 
gardens,  the  olive  groves  and  the  eucalyptus  bordered 
walks  of  the  Golfe  Bleu,  I  have  ventured  to  inscribe 
your  initials  at  the  top  of  this  page. 

I,  too,  often  feel  that  I  should  like  to  go  and  buy 
a  packet  of  HIGH  LIFE  cigarettes  from  Mme. 
Imbert;  lunch  in  the  garden  of  the  Pension  Mireille 
where  you  used  to  do  your  lessons,  and  walk  to 
Monte  Carlo  by  the  narrow  path  above  the  rocks. 
You,  of  course,  prefer  the  summer  months  there 
while  I  should  always  choose  the  winter  for  a  visit 
because,  for  me,  that  season  is  almost  unendurable 
in  England.  Well,  we  won't  quarrel  about  it.  Some 
time  we  will  each  have  our  wish.  We  will  go  back 
there  for  both  the  summer  and  the  winter. 

With  affection, 

G.N. 


PRINTED    IN    GREAT    BRITAIN 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  THE  RED-HAIRED  MAN      .         ...  i 

II.  THE  PENSION  MIREILLE     .         .         .  8 

III.  THE  DILEMMA           .         .         .         *  18 

IV.  MURDER  is  COMMITTED     .         .         .  29 
V.  THE  CASE  AGAINST  MICHAEL  MAGUIRE  38 

VI.  "LE  MEURTRIER"      .         .       '']?       .  48 

VII.  THE  VILLA  GLORIA           .         .         .  64 

VIII.  THE  LIBRARY   .         ...         .  75 

IX.  THEORIES 85 

X.  DR.  ARISTIDE  JOURNET'S  OPINION       .  99 

XI.  Miss  MAGUIRE'S  WILL      .         .         .  108 

XII.  THE  BUTLER     .         .         .'        .        ,  122 

XIII.  CHARLES  CARTHEW?           .                  .  135 

XIV.  MARTIN  CROW  EXPERIMENTS      .         .  148 
XV.  AN  EAVESDROPPER     .         .         .         .164 

XVI.  DANGER  FOR  MARTIN  CROW       .        .  183 

XVII.  SURPRISES  FOR  M.  PEILLE          ,.       .  .  197 

XVIII.  MARTIN  CROW  MAKES  DISCOVERIES    .  205 

XIX.  MARTIN  CROW  VISITS  MAIDENHEAD    .  218 

XX.  MRS.  LANCING          ....  228 

XXI.  CROW  VISITS  CHURCH  MORTIMER       .  240 

XXII.  THE  RECTOR'S  SECRET        .         .         .  252 

XXIII.  THE  KEY  TO  THE  PROBLEM        .         .  265 

XXIV.  CROW  LAYS  DOWN  His  CARDS  .         .  277 
XXV.  CORAL  TRENT  CONFIDES    .         .         .  287 

XXVI.  BOUGHTON  FAILS  AGAIN    .         .         .  298 

XXVII.  M.  PEILLE  APOLOGISES      .         .         .  308 


2137460   ' 


CRIME    AT 
THE    VILLA    GLORIA 

CHAPTER  I 

THE   RED-HAIRED   MAN 

A  RED-HAIRED  man  was  sitting  at  a  table  in 
a  corner  of  the  Bar-Restaurant  Imbert  at 
Roquebrune-Cap-Martin.  Earlier  in  the  evening  he 
had  dined  there  and  for  the  last  hour  had  been 
sipping  his  Pernod  and  glancing  continually  at  the 
cheap  little  clock  which  stood  upon  one  of  the 
shelves  amongst  a  number  of  bottles  of  all  shapes 
and  sizes.  It  was  now  half  past  ten. 

"Monsieur's  friend  is  late  to-night,"  observed 
Mme.  Imbert  from  her  high  stool  behind  the  counter 
upon  which  the  ficlaireur  de  Nice  was  spread  out 
before  her. 

"Oui,"  was  her  customer's  brief  reply.  He  was 
an  Englishman  and  his  powers  of  understanding 
French  were  better  than  those  of  speaking  it.  Having 
read  all  the  news  in  the  Paris  edition  of  the  Daily 
Mail  he  was  now  striving  to  find  entertainment  in 
the  advertisements.  Presently  the  door  was  flung 
open  and  a  tall,  good-looking  man  of  about  fifty 
entered. 


2  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Phew,  it's  warm!"  he  exclaimed.  He  had  a 
pleasant,  well  modulated  voice.  "Bon  soir,  Madame. 
What  are  you  going  to  have,  Charlie?" 

"Another  Pernod,  thanks,  Ernie." 

"Deux  Pernods,  s'il  vous  plait,"  the  newcomer 
said  with  an  atrocious  French  accent,  as  he  sat 
down.  "Sorry  I'm  so  late,  but  things  have  been 
happening  and  I  hung  on  to  hear  the  result  of  the 
first  round." 

"He's  arrived?"  asked  the  red-haired  man. 

"Yes,  and  the  cat's  out  of  the  bag  all  right.  She's 
given  him  his  orders,  stiff  and  proper,  and  he  can 
take  them  or  quit.  If  he  quits  he'll  have  to  fend 
for  himself.  He  won't  get  another  ruddy  cent  out 
of  her." 

"What's  he  going  to  do  about  it?" 

At  that  moment  Mme.  Imbert  came  across  from 
the  counter  with  the  drinks  which  she  put  down  on 
the  marble-topped  table. 

"Merci,   Madame.     Combien?" 

"Deux  francs." 

The  man  called  Ernie  gave  her  a  coin  and  waited 
until  she  had  returned  to  her  stool  before  he  answered 
his  companion's  question. 

"I  don't  know,  but  I  imagine  that  he'll  kick,"  he 
said,  leaning  a  little  across  the  table.  "Well,  Cheerio 
Charlie,  old  boy.  Here's  to  it.  No,  I'm  blessed  if 
I  can  tell  you  what's  going  to  happen  but  I'm  pretty 
sure  there'll  be  a  hell  of  a  row  to-morrow  night  if 
he  comes  along  with  a  blunt  refusal,  because  she's 


THE     RED-HAIRED     MAN  3 

made  up  her  mind  that  he's  going  to  do  as  she 
wants.  Now  look  here,  old  son,  this  is  going  to  be 
our  great  chance,  and  I've  made  some  discoveries 
which  are  going  to  help  quite  a  lot.  To  begin  with 
I  know  that  she  keeps  her  will  in  the  safe  in  the 
library,  and  I  also  know  that  by  that  will  he's  going 
to  inherit  half  the  fortune  and  the  niece  the  other 
half." 

"How  did  you  pick  that  up?"  asked  Charlie  as 
he  sipped  his  drink. 

"I  heard  her  telling  the  girl  all  about  it  last  night. 
Now  the  position  is  this:  if  he  does  as  she  wants, 
that  will  is  going  to  hold;  but  if  he  jibs  she's  got 
another  all  ready  to  sign,  and  that  one  will  cut  him 
clean  out  of  everything  and  the  lot  will  go  to  the  girl." 

"I  don't  see  how  that  affects  us." 

"It  doesn't,  but  the  point  is  this;  if  she  suddenly, 
and  conveniently,  snuffed  out,  and  no  will  could  be 
found,  you'd  come  in  for  everything." 

Charlie  ran  his  fingers  through  his  red  hair. 

"A  cool  hundred  thou',  at  the  very  least,"  he  said, 
looking  up. 

"All  that,  to  say  nothing  of  the  properties." 

"Sounds  all  right,  doesn't  it,  Ernie,  but  it  involves 
a  hell  of  a  risk." 

"Not  if  we  work  together  and  you  do  exactly  as 
I  tell  you,"  said  the  other.  Then,  dropping  his  voice 
still  lower,  he  went  on:  "I've  worked  it  all  out  in 
my  mind  and  it's  going  to  be  easy.  You  come  along 
to-morrow  night  at  about  half  past  nine.  Wear  your 


4  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

gloves  so  that  you  don't  plaster  the  place  with 
finger-prints,  and  come  up  through  the  garden 
from  the  gate  down  by  the  railway  line,  and  I'll  be 
waiting  for  you  at  the  end  of  the  terrace.  They 
should  be  well  into  the  last  round  by  that  time  and 
we'll  be  able  to  hear  what's  going  on.  She  always 
has  the  French  window  open  a  few  inches;  and  if 
she  does  the  usual  she'll  sit  up  till  eleven  or  twelve, 
playing  Patience." 

"Yes,  and  what  then?" 

"We'll  wait  until  she's  finished  with  him,  then 
I'll  go  in  and  make  sure  that  he's  gone  up  to  bed, 
and  when  I  tip  you  the  wink  you  can  slip  in  through 
the  window  and  get  to  work.  I  shall  wait  about  in 
the  hall  to  see  that  you  aren't  disturbed,  and  when 
you've  done  the  job  we'll  get  hold  of  the  wills  from 
the  safe  and  shove  them  into  the  fire." 

"She  has  fires  this  weather?" 

"In  the  library.  She's  an  icy  mortal.  Yes,  Charlie, 
we'll  get  rid  of  those  documents  and  then  you  can 
make  your  getaway.  Nothing'll  be  discovered  until 
the  morning,  and  when  the  police  turn  up  and  begin 
questioning  everyone  it  won't  be  long  before  they 
hear  about  the  aunt  and  nephew  quarrelling;  and 
if  anyone's  suspected  it'll  be  the  young  fellow.  By 
that  time  you'll  be  miles  away." 

"Where  do  I  make  for?" 

"If  you  take  my  advice  you'll  get  the  last  train 
going  to  Marseilles  and  from  there  you'll  take  a 
boat,  or  fly,  to  Corsica,  the  next  day." 


THE     RED-HAIRED     MAN  5 

"Corsica!"  exclaimed  the  red-haired  man  with 
some  surprise.  "What's  the  idea  of  going  there?" 

"It's  primitive,  at  least  parts  of  it  are,  and  you 
can  bury  yourself  conveniently.  If  you  remain  over 
here,  where  all  the  papers  will  be  full  of  the  business, 
you'd  be  expected  to  read  about  it,  and  you've  got 
to  pretend  to  know  nothing  for  quite  a  long  time.  If 
you  show  up  too  soon  it'll  look  fishy  and  will  set 
people  thinking.  If  you're  living  the  simple  life 
in  some  wayside  pub  over  in  Corsica  you  can  always 
say  that  you  haven't  seen  a  paper  for  months.  Then 
there's  another  thing.  With  a  hundred  francs  you 
can  bribe  those  Corsicans  to  say  anything  you  like, 
and  it  would  be  well  to  prime  someone  up  to  say 
that  you'd  been  living  there  for  the  last  two  or  three 
weeks." 

Both  men  remained  silent  for  several  minutes. 
Charlie  sat  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  one  of  the 
advertisements  in  his  paper. 

"A  hundred  thou'l"  he  muttered,  as  if  to  himself. 
"By  God!  It's  not  to  be  sneezed  at." 

"I  should  think  not.  Better  than  your  measly 
£500  a  year,  what?" 

"You  don't  think  it  would  be  possible  to  put  the 
screw  on  a  bit  more  and  get  a  good  lump  sum  out 
of  her?" 

"No,  I  don't.  She's  not  the  sort  that  you  can  scare 
into  doing  things.  She's  the  toughest  proposition 
I've  ever  come  across,  and  I've  struck  some  pretty 
tough  ones  in  my  time.  Besides,  why  shouldn't 


6  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

we  have  the  lot  between  us,  Charlie.  Damn  it,  man, 
I've  been  working  up  to  something  of  this  sort  for 
the  last  two  years,  and  it  hasn't  been  easy  finding 
things  out,  bit  by  bit,  I  can  tell  you.  No,  we'll  go 
for  the  big  thing.  Fate  hasn't  been  too  lenient  with 
either  of  us,  and  it  will  only  be  getting  a  bit  of  our 
own  back,  so  to  speak." 

"Yes,  you're  right  there,  Ernie.  I'm  about  fed 
up  with  this  scrounging  round  on  a  few  quid  a  week; 
but  as  I  said  just  now,  it's  going  to  be  a  hell  of  a 
risk." 

"Not  with  me  helping  you,  old  son,"  said  Ernie, 
persuasively.  "I'll  see  that  your  tracks  are  well 
covered,  and  this  time  next  winter  we'll  have  villas 
of  our  own  here,  and  we  shall  be  somebodies." 

He  got  up  and  going  across  to  the  counter  managed 
to  make  Mme.  Imbert  understand  that  he  wanted 
to  see  a  railway  time-table.  She  got  down  from 
her  stool  and  rummaged  about  beneath  the  counter. 
Presently  she  stood  up  and  produced  what  he 
required. 

"Merci,  Madame.  Tres  bon,"  he  said,  and 
returned  to  his  chair.  "Now  we'll  see  how  the  trains 
fit  in  .  .  .  here  we  are,  Ventimiglia  to  Marseilles 
.  .  .  yes,  there's  a  train  due  here  just  before  mid- 
night and  it  reaches  Marseilles  at  seven  in  the 
morning." 

"God,  what  a  time!" 

"They  don't  hurry  at  night,  except  with  the 
Paris  expresses.  Now,  you'll  probably  have  got 


THE     RED-HAIRED     MAN  7 

clear  long  before  midnight  and  would  have  time  to 
walk  over  to  Monte  Carlo  and  pick  it  up  there. 
Safer  than  getting  in  here;  less  likely  to  be  noticed. 
Well,  old  son,  is  that  agreed?" 

There  was  a  moment's  hesitation  and  then  the 
red-haired  man  roused  himself  resolutely. 

"Right!"  he  exclaimed.    "I'm  in  with  you." 

Ernie  beamed. 

"Good  old  Charlie,"  he  said.   "Let's  shake  on  it." 

They  gripped  each  other's  hand  across  the  table. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  PENSION   MIREILLE 

THE  Pension  Mireille  at  Roquebrune  stands  at  the 
top  of  the  zig-zagging  steps  which  lead  from 
the  old  main  road  down  to  the  station  of  Cap-Martin- 
Roquebrune  where  the  flower-bordered  platforms 
are  shaded  by  tall  and  graceful  eucalyptus  trees. 
The  Pension  is  small  and  unpretentious  and  over- 
looks the  Golfe-Bleu,  with  the  rock  of  Monaco  in 
the  distance  to  the  right,  and  the  wooded  promontory 
of  Cap  Martin  to  the  left.  There  is  no  ostentatious 
display  of  luxury  at  the  Pension  Mireille,  but  Madame 
Ribaud  is  an  excellent  cook;  her  daughter,  Antoinette, 
is  an  efficient  waitress;  and  Monsieur  Ribaud  is  one 
of  the  most  accomplished  gardeners  on  the  Cote 
d'Azur.  Under  his  care  the  little  garden,  with  its 
corners  shaded  by  orange,  lemon  and  mimosa  trees, 
is  kept  in  a  state  of  perpetual  perfection  except, 
perhaps,  during  the  summer  months  when  all 
vegetation  welts  under  the  relentless  heat. 

One  day,  towards  the  end  of  March,  Martin  Crow 
and  his  daughter,  Gerry,  were  having  their  dejeuner 
in  the  little  arbour  in  the  garden  which  was  fragrant 
with  the  perfume  of  stocks  and  heliotrope.  Crow 
was  a  big,  lumbering  man  of  fifty-five.  He  had  a 

8 


THE     PENSION     MIREILLE  9 

round,  smiling,  clean-shaven  face  and  a  light,  gentle 
voice  which  seemed  out  of  keeping  with  his  great 
size.  His  dress  was  neat  but  old-fashioned  in  cut, 
and  he  had  a  trick  of  running  his  ringers  through 
the  short  scrub  of  white  hair  which  stood  erect  upon 
his  head. 

Gerry,  otherwise  Geraldine,  was,  oddly  enough, 
a  diminutive  little  person,  of  about  thirty.  According 
to  ordinary  standards  of  beauty  she  was  unquestion- 
ably plain,  and  yet  she  was  not  without  physical 
attractions.  Her  singularly  small  form  was  in  perfect 
proportion,  and  she  had  large,  intelligent  eyes  which 
looked  at  you  through  horn-rimmed  glasses.  She 
was  neat  and  business-like  in  dress,  manner  and 
speech. 

Martin  Crow,  K.C.,  had  been  one  of  the  leading 
lawyers  at  the  English  Bar.  For  many  years  no 
important  trial  had  been  complete  without  his  name 
among  the  defending  counsel.  He  had  made  a 
substantial  income  of  which  he  had  never  spent 
more  than  a  fraction,  with  the  result  that  he  was  now 
a  man  of  considerable  means  although  he  no  longer 
practised.  The  psychology  of  crime  had  always 
been  for  him  an  absorbing  interest,  and  ten  years 
ago  he  had  surprised  his  friends  and  colleagues  by 
abandoning  his  practice  and  devoting  himself  to  the 
investigation  of  crime.  His  knowledge  of  the  criminal 
mind,  his  powers  of  reasoning,  and  his  attention 
to  the  smallest  details  had  brought  him  many  remark- 
able successes.  He  was  known  and  respected  at 


10  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

Scotland  Yard  and  the  Surete  Generate  in  Paris, 
and  the  police  organisations  of  other  European 
countries  frequently  invited  him  to  assist  them. 

Mademoiselle  Antoinette,  a  pretty,  smiling  girl, 
had  served  the  coffee  and  Gerry  had  lighted  a 
cigarette.  Martin  Crow,  who  never  smoked,  drained 
his  glass  and  leant  back  in  his  chair  with  a  contented 
sigh. 

"What  a  strange  thing  environment  is,  Gerry," 
he  remarked.  "In  England  I  drink  nothing  but 
water  with  my  meals  because  I  never  have  any  desire 
to  taste  wine  or  spirits;  but  here,  in  this  delightful 
sunshine,  and  eating  these  lighter  and  more  imagina- 
tive repasts,  it  seems  the  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world  to  drink  the  wine  of  the  country." 

"I  believe  you  are  really  enjoying  yourself  tremen- 
dously," his  daughter  replied. 

"I  am  enjoying  it,  tremendously,  as  you  say." 

"And  think  of  the  bother  I  had  to  get  you  to  take 
a  holiday." 

Martin  Crow  laughed  and,  taking  a  pencil  from 
his  waistcoat  pocket,  began  to  draw  on  the  back  of 
the  menu  card. 

"My  whole  life  is  a  holiday,  my  dear,"  he  said, 
bending  over  his  drawing.  "I  find  fresh  interest  in 
every  new  face  that  I  see." 

"What  is  it  that  has  been  interesting  you  for  the 
last  quarter  of  an  hour?"  Gerry  asked,  as  she  broke 
one  of  the  slabs  of  sugar  and  dropped  it  into  her 
coffee. 


THE     PENSION     MIREILLE  II 

"That  young  couple  over  there,"  replied  Crow, 
looking  past  his  daughter  at  two  people  who  were 
sitting  at  a  table  some  distance  along  the  terrace. 
The  girl  was  fair  and  handsome  rather  than  pretty. 
Her  companion,  a  dark,  good-looking  young  fellow, 
was  doing  most  of  the  talking.  He  was  obviously 
excited,  and  his  thoughts  appeared  to  be  outstripping 
his  tongue. 

"I  thought  so.  Well?"  asked  Gerry,  glancing 
sideways  over  her  shoulder. 

"There  we  have  some  human  problem  which  will 
probably  be  worth  watching,  if  we  are  given  the 
chance." 

"You  are  incorrigible,  Father." 

Martin  Crow  laughed  again. 

"And  why,  my  dear?  Just  because  the  every-day 
problems  of  my  fellow  creatures  interest  me?" 

"I  brought  you  here  to  forget  such  things." 

"Foolish  child!  I  thought  you  knew  me  better 
than  to  expect  that  of  me." 

"Out  with  it  then,"  said  Gerry.  "What  is  it? 
An  elopement  with  irate  parents  or  an  enraged 
husband  upon  their  tracks?" 

Crow  shook  his  head.  His  grey  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  the  young  people  who  were  too  absorbed  with 
their  own  affairs  to  notice  the  interest  which  they 
had  aroused. 

"She  is  not  married,"  Crow  declared. 

"Because  she  wears  no  ring?" 

"  Imbecile  child !  What  have  rings  to  do  with  being 


12  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

married  in  these  days?  No,  she  has  not  the  manner 
of  speaking,  or  the  movements  of  a  married  woman. 
She  is  deeply  in  love  with  him,  and  he  with  her;  but 
there  is  some  hitch,  and  I  doubt  if  they  know  what 
that  hitch  is.  They  are  arguing  round  in  circles  and 
can  arrive  at  no  definite  conclusion.  Well,  we  shall 
see,  perhaps."  Crow  took  a  large  gold  watch  from  his 
pocket  and  glanced  at  it.  "If  we  are  going  to  walk 
over  to  Monte  Carlo  I  think  we  should  be  going  or 
we  shall  be  late  for  the  concert." 

They  got  up  and  went  indoors  for  their  hats.  A 
few  minutes  later  they  were  going  down  the  steps 
towards  the  station  beyond  which  they  took  the  path 
which  runs  between  the  railway  line  and  the  shore. 
They  were  going  to  hear  Cortot  play  at  the  Casino. 

That  evening  at  dinner,  which  was  served  in  the 
glass-surrounded  restaurant,  the  fair  girl  was  sitting 
alone.  An  open  book  lay  upon  the  table  at  her  side 
but  she  did  not  seem  able  to  give  it  her  attention. 
From  time  to  time  she  glanced  nervously  across  at 
Gerry  and  then  lowered  her  eyes  quickly.  As  soon 
as  she  had  finished  her  meal  she  closed  her  book  and 
got  up,  and  as  she  passed  into  the  little  lounge  she 
glanced  again  at  Gerry  and  the  faintest  smile  parted 
her  lips. 

The  next  morning  Martin  Crow  and  his  daughter 
started  early,  with  their  lunch,  to  walk  over  the 
mountains  to  Gorbio.  The  fair  girl  was  sitting  in 
the  garden  and  Gerry  paused  and  spoke  to  her  as 
she  passed. 


THE     PENSION     MIREILLE  13 

"Isn't  it  a  wonderful  morning?"  she  said. 

"Glorious."  The  word  was  uttered  hesitatingly, 
as  if  she  were  not  convinced  of  its  accuracy. 

"We  are  going  over  to  Gorbio,"  Gerry  said. 
"Have  you  been  there?" 

"No,  I  only  arrived  yesterday  and  this  is  my 
first  visit  to  the  Riviera." 

Gerry  smiled  and  hurried  after  her  father. 

"She's  all  on  edge,  poor  thing,"  she  told  him. 

Martin  Crow  made  no  reply  and,  with  the  exception 
of  an  occasional  remark  about  the  views,  or  some 
wayside  flower,  they  walked,  as  they  usually  did,  in 
silence.  It  was  six  o'clock  before  they  returned,  for 
they  came  back  by  Sainte  Agnes  and  Menton,  and 
from  the  balcony  of  his  room  Crow  saw  the  fair 
girl  and  the  young  man  sitting  in  the  garden  below. 
The  latter  was  talking  quickly  and  was  emphasising 
his  words  with  short,  jerky  movements  of  his  hand. 
The  girl  was  sitting  with  her  chin  cupped  in  her 
hands  and  her  eyes  fixed  upon  something  in  the  far 
distance.  Martin  Crow  watched  them  for  a  few 
moments  and  then,  closing  the  window,  began  to 
change  from  the  rough  clothes  and  shoes  in  which 
he  had  been  walking.  When  he  and  Gerry  went 
down  to  dinner  the  fair  girl  was  alone  and  appeared 
to  be  even  more  nervous  and  anxious  than  she  had 
been  the  previous  evening.  In  fact  it  was  not  until 
Mile.  Antoinette  had  put  the  little  baskets  of  fruit 
upon  the  tables  that  she  showed  any  sign  of  recognis- 
ing Gerry.  Their  eyes  met  for  the  fraction  of  a 


14  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

second  and  the  smile  which  she  gave  was  manifestly 
forced. 

"Won't  you  come  and  drink  your  coffee  with 
us?"  Martin  Crow  said,  turning  towards  her. 

The  girl  looked  startled  and  did  not  reply.  Gerry 
got  up  and  went  across  to  her. 

"Do  come  and  talk  to  us,"  she  said,  and  almost 
before  the  other  realised  what  was  happening  she 
found  herself  being  gently  led  across  to  the  other  table. 

"I  was  just  going  to  ask  Mile.  Antoinette  if  she 
has  any  good  liqueur  brandy,"  Crow  told  her.  "I 
always  think  that  a  fine  is  a  fitting  conclusion  to  a 
good  meal.  Will  you  join  us?" 

"Oh,  thank  you." 

Martin  Crow  beckoned  to  Mile.  Antoinette  and 
gave  the  order.  For  several  moments  there  was  an 
awkward  silence. 

"Have  you  been  doing  anything  interesting 
to-day?"  Gerry  asked. 

Their  companion  looked  at  her,  hesitated  for  a 
moment,  and  then  said, 

"No,  I  have  not  been  outside  the  garden.  I  have 
been  waiting  for  my  fiance  who  said  that  he  might 
be  coming  at  any  time." 

"He  is  staying  in  Roquebrune?"  asked  Crow. 

Another  hesitation. 

"Yes,  with  his  aunt  at  the  Villa  Gloria." 

"That  is  near  here?" 

"Yes,  just  along  the  road  past  the  Four-and- 
Twenty  Blackbirds  tea-room.  You  can  see  it  from 


THE     PENSION     MIREILLE  15 

the  garden.  It  is  the  large  white  villa  with  the  green 
shutters." 

Mile.  Antoinette  appeared  with  three  small  glasses 
and  a  bottle.  As  soon  as  she  had  left  them  Crow 
said, 

"I  have  not  been  here  for  nearly  five  years,  and  I 
don't  suppose  I  should  be  here  now  if  my  daughter 
had  not  dragged  me  away.  She  thought  that  I  was 
going  into  a  decline  for  want  of  a  rest  and  a  change," 
he  chuckled.  "This  is  your  first  visit  to  the  Riviera, 
I  understand?" 

"Yes." 

Martin  Crow  raised  his  glass  and  smiled. 

"  I  wish  you  as  enjoyable  a  holiday  as  I  am  having," 
he  said. 

The  girl  also  raised  her  glass  but  lowered  it  without 
putting  it  to  her  lips. 

"I  fear  this  is  not  exactly  a  holiday  for  me,"  she 
sighed.  After  a  moment's  pause  she  went  on,  "My 
fiance  and  I  find  ourselves  confronted  by  an  unex- 
pected dilemma." 

"Ah,  I  was  afraid  that  you  were  both  troubled 
about  something,"  said  her  host  in  that  gentle, 
persuasive  tone  which  had  brought  him  so  many 
confidences.  "I  suppose  we  should  introduce  our- 
selves. My  name  is  Martin  Crow,  and  this  is  my 
daughter,  Gerry.  Until  a  few  years  ago  I  spent  my 
life  in  the  Courts,  mostly  defending  criminals  and 
other  people  who  found  themselves  in  difficulties. 
Now  I  lead  a  delightfully  idle  life  and " 


l6  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"What  nonsense,  Father!"  interrupted  Gerry. 
"You  know  that  you  still  work  as  hard  as  any  man  at 
the  Bar." 

Crow  smiled  and  patted  his  daughter's  hand. 

"Don't  interrupt,  Gerry,"  he  said  with  mock 
parental  sternness.  "You  must  allow  me  to  describe 
myself  in  my  own  way.  Don't  take  any  notice  of 
what  she  says,  Miss ?" 

"Beamish.    Alison  Beamish." 

.  .  .  Miss  Beamish.  I  was  going  to  tell  you 
that  since  I  gave  up  practising  I  have  amused  myself 
by  becoming  interested  in  other  people's  affairs. 
From  that  you  may  conclude  that  I  am  one  of  those 
meddlesome  old  fellows  who  should  be  avoided,  but 
I  am  not  really  so  bad  as  my  description  may  sound. 
It  is  seldom  that  I  interfere  without  being  asked." 

"Father  is  simply  marvellous  at  disentangling 
people's  troubles,"  Gerry  declared. 

Crow  frowned  playfully  at  his  daughter. 

"Take  no  notice  of  her,  Miss  Beamish,  but  if  I 
can  be  of  any  help  to  you  I  trust  that  you  will  not 
hesitate  to  ask  me." 

"That  is  terribly  kind  of  you,  Mr.  Crow,  but " 

She  paused  and  with  a  shrug  of  her  slim  shoulders 
gave  a  deep  sigh.  "I  don't  see  how  you  can  help," 
she  added  with  a  note  of  despair  in  her  low,  soft 
voice. 

Crow  emptied  his  glass  and  leant  across  the  table. 

"Please  do  not  think  that  I  am  an  inquisitive  old 
man,"  he  said,  lowering  his  voice,  "but  if  you  feel 


THE     PENSION     MIREILLE  I'J 

inclined  to  tell  us  something  of  your  difficulties  you 
may  find  that  the  mere  telling  will  afford  you  some 
comfort.  Gerry,  I  am  sure  that  Miss  Beamish  would 
smoke  a  cigarette  if  you  offered  her  one."  Crow 
looked  round  the  room.  Several  tables  were  occu- 
pied. "And  then  perhaps  you  would  care  to  come 
upstairs  and  talk,"  he  added. 

Alison  accepted  the  cigarette  and  after  a  few 
minutes  they  went  up  to  Gerry's  room  which  over- 
looked the  Bon  Voyage  quarter  of  Roquebrune  and 
the  lower  slopes  of  Mont  Agel.  It  was  a  warm 
evening  and  they  sat  before  the  open  window. 


CHAPTER   III 

THE   DILEMMA 

Miss  Beamish,  just  tell  us  as  much  of 
your  difficulties  as  you  wish,  and  I  can  assure 
you  that  you  will  have  our  attention." 

"The  trouble  concerns  my  fiance,  Michael 
Maguire,  and  his  aunt,"  Alison  began  in  a  more 
cheerful  tone  than  she  had  employed  hitherto.  The 
opportunity  to  talk  obviously  came  as  a  relief  to  her. 
"He  is  a  year  older  than  I  am,  twenty-five.  He  is  a 
medical  student  and  hopes  to  qualify  next  February. 
His  parents  both  died  when  he  was  a  child  and  since 
that  time  he  has  been  brought  up  and  educated  by 
his  aunt,  Miss  Jennifer  Maguire.  She  is  a  wealthy 
woman  and  in  some  ways  spends  her  money  gener- 
ously, but  in  other  ways  she  is "  Alison  hesitated 

as  if  she  could  not  find  the  right  word. 

"Parsimonious?"  prompted  Crow. 

"Yes,  I  suppose  that  is  the  word.  She  sent  Michael 
to  a  first  class  preparatory  school,  to  Charterhouse  and 
Cambridge,  and  for  the  last  five  years  has  been  paying 
all  his  hospital  expenses  and  allowing  him  £3  a  week." 

"As  pocket  money?"  questioned  Crow. 

"You  could  hardly  call  it  pocket  money,"  replied 
Alison.  "Out  of  that  he  had  to  keep  and  clothe 

18 


THE     DILEMMA  19 

himself,  and  pay  for  such  things  as  amusements, 
cigarettes  and  bus  fares.  He " 

"One  moment,  Miss  Beamish.  I  should  like  to 
be  quite  sure  of  the  facts.  Just  now  you  spoke  of 
Miss  Maguire  as  a  wealthy  woman.  What,  exactly, 
do  you  mean  by  wealthy?" 

"I  really  could  not  tell  you  what  her  income  is, 
but  she  has  the  villa,  here,  and  a  large  country 
house  near  Church  Mortimer  where  she  keeps  five 
or  six  servants  and  three  or  four  gardeners;  and  she 
runs  a  Rolls  Royce  which  she  brings  to  the  Riviera 
every  winter." 

"Thank  you;  that  gives  me  some  idea  of  her  means. 
Please  go  on." 

"Miss  Maguire,  I  must  tell  you,  is  a  woman  of 
about  sixty.  She  is  tall,  sharp-featured,  severe  in 
manner  and  dress,  and  is  domineering.  I  first  met 
her  two  years  ago  when  Michael  and  I  became  en- 
gaged. She  asked  Michael  to  take  me  to  Merryfields 
for  the  week-end,  and  received  me  as  her  future 
niece-in-law." 

"Merryfields,  I  suppose,  is  the  house  near  Church 
Mortimer?"  asked  Crow. 

"Yes.  I  have  been  there  several  times  during  the 
last  two  years  and,  in  a  distant  way,  we  got  on  quite 
well  together.  I  believe  that  she  respected  me  be- 
cause I  was  not  afraid  to  express  my  opinions  in  an 
argument  and  did  not  hesitate  to  disagree  with  her 
if  our  views  differed.  Michael,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  rather  inclined  to  be  diffident.  He  allowed  her 


20  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

to  have  her  own  way,  rather  than  argue,  and  I  think 
that  he  lost  her  respect  by  doing  that.  There  is 
something  of  the  bully  in  her  and,  like  most  bullies, 
she  despises  and  takes  advantage  of  anything  which 
might  be  taken  for  weakness.  However,  I'm  afraid  I 
am  worrying  you  with  a  lot  of  silly  details,  Mr. 
Crow." 

"Not  at  all,  my  dear  Miss  Beamish,  not  at  all. 
Details  are  so  often  of  the  greatest  importance. 
Please  continue  as  you  have  begun." 

"The  last  time  that  I  went  to  Merryfields  was 
about  fifteen  months  ago,  just  before  Miss  Maguire 
came  out  here  the  winter  before  last,  and  the  ques- 
tion of  our  marrying  was  freely  discussed.  Miss 
Maguire  suggested  that  we  should  wait  until  Michael 
was  qualified,  and  she  said  that  she  would  spend 
£2,000  on  buying  him  a  practice  and  would  give  him 
£500  with  which  to  start  a  home." 

"That  was  generous  enough,"   remarked   Crow. 

"Very  generous,"  Alison  agreed,  "in  fact  we  were 
both  very  surprised  in  view  of  her  allowance  of  £3 
a  week  which  had  always  kept  Michael  terribly 
short." 

"Used  he  to  comment  upon  the  meagreness  of  the 
allowance?" 

"No,  he  never  did  that.  He  managed  to  rub 
along  without  getting  into  debt,  and  his  future 
seemed  to  be  assured,  so  he  did  not  grumble.  He 
had  not  much  time  for  spending  money.  He  was 
working  all  day  at  the  hospital,  while  I  had  my  own 


THE     DILEMMA  21 

secretarial  job  which  provided  me  with  all  that  I 
needed." 

"Then  you  have  not  seen  Miss  Maguire  for  more 
than  a  year?" 

"No.  The  Christmas  before  last  she  wrote  her 
usual  seasonal  letter  to  Michael,  enclosing  a  cheque 
for  £i,  and  sending  me  some  kind  message.  He  did 
not  hear  from  her  again  until  his  birthday  in  March 
when  she  said  that  she  had  been  joined  by  her 
niece,  Coral  Trent,  whose  mother  had  recently  died 
in  Australia.  This  girl  and  Miss  Maguire  are,  as 
far  as  Michael  knows,  his  only  relatives." 

"Was  the  girl's  father  dead?" 

"Yes,  he  died  three  or  four  years  ago,  I  believe. 
Now,  the  next  time  that  Michael  heard  from  his 
aunt  was  last  summer  when  she  wrote  to  him  from 
the  Hyde  Park  Hotel  in  London,  saying  that  she  and 
Coral  were  staying  there  for  a  couple  of  nights  on 
their  way  to  Church  Mortimer,  and  asking  him  if 
he  would  dine  with  them.  Perhaps  I  should  be  more 
accurate  if  I  said  that  she  commanded,  not  asked. 
I  remember  seeing  her  letter.  She  said:  'We  shall 
expect  to  see  you  here  to  dinner  to-morrow  at  7.30.'  " 

"Is  Miss  Maguire  in  the  habit  of  commanding, 
rather  than  inviting?"  asked  Crow. 

"Invariably,  where  Michael  is  concerned,"  Alison 
replied.  "She  always  expected  him  to  do  things.  She 
expected  him  to  go  to  Merryfields  for  the  week-end, 
never  asked  him  if  it  would  be  convenient,  or  if 
he  would  care  to  go." 


22  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Something  of  a  dictator,"  Gerry  remarked. 

"That  is  only  too  true,  Miss  Crow,"  replied  the 
girl,  "as  you  will  see  when  I  have  told  you  every- 
thing. Well,  Michael  went  to  dinner  at  the  hotel 
and  made  the  acquaintance  of  his  cousin,  whom  he 
described  to  me  as  'a  queer  creature.'  He  judged 
her  to  be  about  thirty.  She  was,  apparently,  quite 
unattractive  and  hardly  said  a  word  the  whole  time 
that  he  was  with  them.  The  next  day  Miss  Maguire 
and  Coral  went  to  Merryfields  and,  contrary  to  his 
expectations,  Michael  received  no  command  to  go 
there  during  the  remainder  of  the  summer.  Last 
Christmas  he  received  the  usual  letter  and  cheque, 
but  this  time  there  was  no  reference  to  myself.  She 
asked  him,  however,  when  he  proposed  to  take  his 
next  holiday  and  he  told  her  that  he  hoped  to  get 
away  for  a  fortnight  in  March.  Miss  Maguire  replied 
at  once  and  said  that  she  would  expect  him  to  spend 
the  holiday  here,  at  Roquebrune,  and  that  she  would 
write  again  nearer  the  time.  About  ten  days  ago  he 
received  a  letter  in  which  she  enclosed  a  cheque 
for  his  second-class  return  fare  and  said  that  Coral 
was  such  a  sweet  girl  and  that  she  was  most  anxious 
for  them  to  meet  again  so  that  they  could  really 
get  to  know  each  other." 

"Was  there  any  message  to  yourself  in  that  letter, 
Miss  Beamish?" 

"None  at  all." 

"Did  you  imagine  that  you  had  offended  her  in 
some  way?" 


THE     DILEMMA  23 

"No,  I  knew  that  I  could  not  have  done  that. 
Michael  and  I  discussed  the  matter  for  hours  and 
eventually  came  to  the  conclusion  that  Miss  Maguire 
was  going  to  try  to  persuade  him  to  marry  Coral." 

"She  had  not  hinted  at  such  a  thing  before?" 

"Never,  but  we  could  account  for  the  wording  of 
her  letter  and  avoidance  of  any  mention  of  myself 
in  no  other  way." 

"Yes,  I  can  see  that,"  said  Crow.  "And  how  did 
your  fiance  reply  to  that  letter?" 

"He  thanked  her  for  the  cheque  and  said  that  he 
would  be  arriving  some  time  during  the  afternoon 
of  the  twenty-fifth;  that  was  yesterday." 

"He  did  not  consider  the  possibility  of  refusing 
to  come  down  here?" 

Alison  smiled  faintly. 

"He  would  have  liked  to  refuse  but  didn't  feel 
that  he  was  in  a  position  to  do  so.  It  was  a  most 
awkward  predicament  in  which  he  found  himself. 
We  discussed  it  from  every  point  of  view  and  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  if  there  was  going  to  be  trouble 
it  would  be  best  to  face  it  and  get  it  over.  Michael 
knew  enough  of  his  aunt  to  be  pretty  certain  that  if 
she  did  want  him  to  marry  Coral  Trent  he  would 
find  it  very  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  defy  her 
without  making  her  furiously  angry." 

"  Miss  Maguire,  I  take  it,  is  used  to  being  obeyed  ? " 
Crow  asked. 

"Absolutely,  and  she  is  given  to  fits  of  violent 
temper  if  anyone  opposes  her.  When  we  were 


24  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

discussing  it  I  became  terribly  worried  because  I 
knew  that  over  a  matter  which  affected  him  so  deeply 
Michael  would  not  allow  himself  to  be  brow-beaten, 
and  it  was  my  suggestion  that  I  should  come  down 
here  and  stay  near  by  so  that  I  could  go  and 
talk  to  Miss  Maguire,  if  we  thought  it  advisable, 
when  we  knew  for  certain  what  was  really  in  her 
mind." 

"Does  she  know  that  you  are  here?" 

"Not  yet.  We  arrived  by  the  midday  train  yester- 
day and  after  lunch  Michael  went  up  to  the  villa. 
Miss  Maguire  received  him  in  her  usual,  formal 
way,  and  after  tea  sent  him  and  Coral  out  for  a  two 
hours'  drive  in  the  Rolls.  Michael  says  that  it  was 
the  most  unpleasant  two  hours  he  ever  spent.  He 
tried  to  make  himself  agreeable  but  could  not  get 
more  than  a  'yes*  and  a  'no'  out  of  his  cousin. 

"After  dinner  they  played  three-handed  Bridge 
until  half  past  nine  and  then  his  aunt  told  Coral  to 
go  to  bed  as  she  wanted  to  talk  business.  Without 
any  preliminaries  she  said  that  she  had  decided  that 
he  was  to  marry  Coral,  in  fact  she  had  made  arrange- 
ments for  the  marriage  to  take  place  at  the  British 
Consulate  at  Nice.  Michael  listened  to  her  in 
silence  and  then,  when  she  had  calmly  asked  him 
if  he  wished  to  make  any  comment,  he  reminded 
her  that  he  was  going  to  marry  me." 

"She  seems  to  be  something  more  than  a  dictator," 
remarked  Gerry.  "Tyrant,  I  should  say,  would  be 
nearer  the  mark." 


THE     DILEMMA  25 

"Yes,  Miss  Crow,  I  think  you  are  right,"  said 
Alison.  "Miss  Maguire  was  in  her  severest  mood. 
She  seems  to  have  treated  Michael's  reminder  as  a 
joke.  She  laughed  derisively  at  him  and  told  him 
not  to  be  foolish.  He  pointed  out  that  he  was  actually 
engaged  to  me  and  was  about  to  say  that  he  would 
not  think  of  marrying  Coral  even  if  he  were  not, 
but  Miss  Maguire  forbade  him  to  say  another  word. 
She  told  him  to  go  to  bed  and  consider  the  matter 
carefully.  He  was  not  to  mention  the  matter  again 
until  to-night,  and  she  reminded  him  that  he  was 
entirely  dependent  upon  her.  He  asked  what  she 
meant  by  that,  and  she  replied  that  if  he  were  foolish 
enough  to  refuse  to  marry  Carol  he  would  find  all 
supplies  cut  off  immediately,  and  that  she  would 
make  a  fresh  will  disinheriting  him." 

"And  he  was  telling  you  all  this  this  evening?" 
asked  Crow. 

"Yes." 

"What  has  taken  place  between  aunt  and  nephew 
to-day?" 

"She  greeted  him  in  her  usual  stiff  manner  this 
morning;  they  all  went  over  to  Monte  Carlo  to  do 
some  shopping,  and  this  afternoon  Miss  Maguire 
sent  Michael  and  Coral  over  to  Cannes  to  have  tea 
at  the  Casino." 

"The  question  of  marriage  has  not  been  touched 
upon?" 

"No.  They  are  probably  discussing  it  at  this 
moment." 


26  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"He  will  not  give  way,  of  course?" 

"Nothing  would  induce  him  to  do  that,  although 
I  can't  imagine  what  will  happen  if  she  holds  to  her 
threat  about  cutting  off  all  supplies.  He  hasn't  a 
penny  of  his  own,  and  it  will  be  impossible  for  him 
to  continue  at  the  hospital." 

Martin  Crow  shook  his  head  gravely. 

"It  is  certainly  a  most  unfortunate  position,"  he 
said  after  a  moment's  silence,  "and  I  am  very  sorry 
for  you,  my  dear  young  lady." 

"Can  you  think  of  anything  that  we  can  do?" 
asked  Alison,  anxiously. 

"When  do  you  expect  to  hear  what  has  been 
happening  this  evening?" 

"Michael  said  he  would  come  down  in  the  morning 
and  tell  me." 

"Then  I  am  afraid  we  must  try  to  be  very  patient 
until  then,"  Crow  replied,  encouragingly.  "If,  when 
you  have  heard  his  news,  you  feel  disposed  to  confide 
in  me  again  I  shall  be  most  happy  to  offer  you  my 
advice  for  what  it  may  be  worth." 

"That  is  very  very  good  of  you,  Mr.  Crow.  How 
can  I  thank  you?" 

"By  trying  to  smile  in  spite  of  your  trouble. 
Remember  that  things  are  not  always  so  bad  as  they 
appear  to  be  at  first;  and  remember  also  that  there  is 
a  remedy  for  most  situations.  A  happy  conclusion 
to  a  difficulty  is  often  the  result  of  keeping  calm 
and  clear-headed." 

"You  really  think  that  there  may  be  some  way  of 


THEDILEMMA  27 

making  Miss  Maguire  see  the  unreasonableness  of 
her  attitude?"  asked  Alison,  hopefully. 

"I  must  not  raise  your  hopes  unduly,  my  dear 
young  lady,"  Crow  answered.  "So  much  will 
depend  upon  what  takes  place  this  evening,  but  I 
do  feel  that  there  may  be  some  channel  by  which 
we  may  be  able  successfully  to  approach  Miss 
Maguire." 

Alison  stood  up  and  smiled  almost  naturally. 

"You  have  made  me  feel  far  less  wretched,  Mr. 
Crow,"  she  said,  offering  him  her  hand.  "You 
don't  know  how  grateful  I  am  to  you  for  making  me 
come  and  talk  to  you,"  she  added,  turning  to  Gerry. 

"I  had  a  feeling  that  you  wanted  to  talk  to  some- 
one," said  the  latter. 

"Yes,  I  did.  Then  I  will  say  good  night  and  I 
will  let  you  know  Michael's  news  directly  I  have 
heard  it  myself.  Are  you  going  out  in  the  morning?" 

As  a  matter  of  fact  they  had  arranged  to  walk 
across  the  frontier  to  the  village  of  Grimaldi,  but 
Martin  Crow  said, 

"No,  we  snail  not  be  going  out  until  the  after- 
noon." As  soon  as  Alison  had  left  them  he  turned 
to  his  daughter.  "You  don't  mind,  do  you?" 

"What?  About  not  going  to  Grimaldi?  Of  course 
not.  It  will  make  all  the  difference  to  her  if  she  knows 
that  she  can  come  to  you  at  any  time." 

"I'm  sorry  for  her,  and  for  the  young  man,"  said 
Crow,  "but  looking  at  it — er — professionally,  the 
case  has  some  interesting  aspects." 


28  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"At  any  rate  it  isn't  a  sordid  crime,"  remarked 
Gerry,  "but  it  strikes  me  that  it  will  be  a  tough 
proposition  trying  to  get  round  that  selfish,  pig- 
headed woman." 

"Yes,   perhaps   it  will,"    Crow   agreed,    "but   as 
Miss  Beamish  says,  the  aunt  is,  apparently,  a  bully, 
and  I've  never  come  across  a  bully  who  did  not 
have   his,   or   her,   weak   spot;   therefore,   my   dear 
Gerry,  find  Miss  Jennifer  Maguire's  weak  spot  and 
apply  pressure,  and  apply  it  ruthlessly.    Now,  what 
about  a  stroll  up  to  the  village?" 
"Five  hundred  steps  at  this  hour?" 
"If  you  are  tired,  my  dear,  I  can  go  alone." 
"You  certainly  won't.   I'm  not  tired,  but  I  thought 
you  might  be  after  our  long  walk." 

"  I  want  to  see  the  lights  of  Monte  Carlo  from  the 
Place,  and  the  exercise  will  make  me  sleep  like  a 
top,"  replied  Martin  Crow  as  he  went  into  his  own 
room  to  fetch  his  old  broad-brimmed  felt  hat. 


CHAPTER  IV 

MURDER   IS   COMMITTED 

MARTIN  CROW  and  Gerry  were  having  their 
petit  dejeuner  on  the  balcony  of  the  former's 
room.  It  was  one  of  those  dazzlingly  brilliant  morn- 
ings when  the  Tete  du  Chien,  the  rock  of  Monaco 
and  the  white  buildings  of  Monte  Carlo  looked  as 
if  they  formed  part  of  some  gigantic  stage  setting. 
Their  outlines  were  clear  cut,  and  the  third  dimen- 
sion scarcely  seemed  to  exist.  There  was  hardly  a 
ripple  on  the  sea,  which  was  of  that  intense  sapphire 
colour  which  is  always  associated  with  the  Mediter- 
ranean. The  light-houses  at  the  entrance  to  Monaco 
harbour,  the  arched  wall  supporting  the  Tir  au 
Pigeons  ground,  and  the  houses  along  the  lower 
road,  cast  mirror-like  reflections  which  seemed 
almost  unreal.  Below  the  Pension  Mireille  a  fisher- 
man was  standing  in  his  boat,  in-shore,  with  a  long 
pronged  pole  in  his  hand.  He  was  looking  intently 
down  into  the  clear  deep  water  in  the  hope  of  seeing 
a  small  octopus  on  one  of  the  submerged  rocks. 
From  the  Pension  garden  there  came  the  perfume 
of  a  score  of  flowers;  roses,  heliotrope,  stocks, 
carnations,  orange  blossom,  wistaria,  and  many 
others. 

29 


30  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

Martin  Crow  and  his  daughter  had  been  eating 
in  silence  for  some  minutes  and  it  was  not  until 
they  saw  Alison  Beamish  walk  across  the  small 
stretch  of  grass,  and  settle  herself  in  the  little  arbour, 
that  the  former  spoke. 

"I  wonder  how  long  it  will  be  before  she  hears 
anything,"  he  said. 

"It  must  be  terrible  not  knowing  what  has 
happened,"  Gerry  replied.  "I'm  terribly  sorry 
for  them  both,  but  I'm  inclined  to  think  that 
he  is  probably  entirely  to  blame  for  the  present 
situation." 

"How?" 

"He  has  obviously  played  the  part  of  the  obedient, 
uncomplaining  little  boy  to  that  aunt,  and  she,  no 
doubt,  despises  him  heartily  for  not  making  a  stand 
against  her." 

"You  may  be  right,  my  dear,  but  don't  forget 
that  we  know  next  to  nothing  about  him." 

"Quite,  but  I  feel  that  I  know  a  good  deal  about 
Miss  Maguire,"  answered  Gerry.  "You  heard  what 
Miss  Beamish  said,  that  the  aunt  seemed  to  respect 
her  because  she  wasn't  afraid  of  giving  her  opinion. 
I  imagine  that  he  accepted,  or  pretended  to  accept 
everything  that  Miss  Maguire  said." 

Martin  Crow  emptied  his  coffee  cup  and  stood 
up. 

"Well,  that  may  have  been  prudent  on  his  part," 
he  said.  "We  must  remember  that  he  is  entirely 
dependent  upon  her,  for  his  present  needs  and  for 


MURDER     IS     COMMITTED  3! 

his  future,  and,  as  far  as  we  know,  he  has  had  no 
cause  to  disagree  seriously  with  her  until  he  came 
here  the  day  before  yesterday." 

"No,  probably  not,  but  continual  acquiescence  in 
trivial  matters  no  doubt  led  Miss  Maguire  to  suppose 
that  she  could  do  whatever  she  liked  with  him; 
and  this  sudden  opposition  will  probably  be  attri- 
buted to  Alison's  influence.  Have  you  any  idea 
how  she  might  be  approached?" 

Crow  was  watching  one  of  the  great  Italian  liners 
which  had  just  come  out  of  Villefranche  harbour, 
on  its  way  from  New  York,  and  was  now  heading 
for  Genoa.  He  did  not  reply  for  half  a  minute. 

"No,  I  can't  say  that  I  have,"  he  said  at  length. 
"So  much  will  depend  upon  what  took  place  at 
the  villa  last  night.  Presumably  Miss  Maguire  is 
quite  determined  that  he  shall  marry  the  other 
girl,  and  he  appears  to  be  equally  determined  not 
to.  From  what  we  have  heard  of  Miss  Maguire  I 
should  expect  her  to  dismiss  him  from  her  villa 
and  tell  him  not  to  show  his  face  there  again  unless 
he  changes  his  mind." 

"Which  he  won't  do." 

"According  to  Miss  Beamish." 

"And  he  will  find  himself  penniless  and  with 
very  little  chance  of  earning  a  living." 

Martin  Crow  made  no  reply.  He  turned  into  the 
room  and  fetched  his  binoculars  from  the  chest  of 
drawers. 

"At  the  back  of  my  mind   I   have  a  suspicion 


32  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

that  you  are  thinking  of  helping  him,  practically, 
in  some  way,"  Gerry  remarked. 

Martin  Crow,  who  had  been  following  the  liner 
with  the  glasses,  lowered  them  and  looked  round. 

"There  isn't  much  that  escapes  you,  is  there, 
my  dear?"  he  said  with  a  smile. 

"It  seemed  to  me  to  be  an  obvious  solution  if  we 
could  think  of  a  tactful  way  of  doing  it." 

"Yes,  one  does  not  want  to  hurt  anyone's  feelings, 
but  I  think  that  we  ought  to  be  able  to  avoid  doing 
that.  Young  Maguire  is  in  his  fifth  year,  and  his 
medical  knowledge  might  be  of  the  greatest  help  to 
us  at  times." 

Gerry  laughed. 

"I  see,  employ  him  as  pathologist?" 

"Something  of  that  sort,  my  dear." 

"Of  course  they'd  both  see  through  the  little 
plan." 

"Possibly,  but  we  could  put  it  in  such  a  way 
that  they  would  not  feel  they  were  accepting  charity." 

"And  he  could  continue  his  studies?"  said  Gerry. 

Martin  Crow  remained  silent.  He  was  watching 
Mile.  Antoinette  who  was  going  across  the  garden 
to  the  arbour.  He  saw  her  hand  Alison  a  note  which 
was  quickly  opened;  then  he  heard  a  sharp  cry. 

"I'm  afraid  it's  bad  news,  Gerry,"  Crow  said, 
swinging  round.  "Perhaps  you  might  be  able  to 
help  her  if  you  went  down." 

Gerry  did  not  wait  to  ask  any  questions  but  ran 
out  of  the  room  and  down  the  stairs.  She  found 


MURDER     IS     COMMITTED  33 

Alison  Beamish  sitting  with  a  crumpled  sheet  of 
paper  in  her  hand.  Her  cheeks  were  the  colour  of 
chalk  and  she  seemed  unable  to  speak. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  Gerry  asked,  laying  her 
hand  upon  the  girl's  shoulder. 

Alison  looked  up  with  staring  eyes  and,  still  with- 
out speaking,  handed  her  the  note.  Gerry  unfolded 
it  and  saw  that  it  was  headed: 

"Wednesday  5  a.m." 

"Darling.  I'm  afraid  this  is  going  to  be  a  bit  of  a 
shock  for  you  but  you  must  have  courage  as  I  know  that 
it  must  come  all  right  in  the  end.  We  had  a  furious  row 
last  night.  Of  course  I  refused  and  she  told  me  to  leave 
the  villa  before  she  was  up  in  the  morning  and  never 
to  let  her  see  me  again.  I  went  off  to  my  room  to  think 
things  over  and  decided  that  I  would  clear  out  at  once. 
When  I  went  downstairs  with  my  suit-case  I  found  that 
she  had  been  murdered.  The  police  were  called,  they 
questioned  everyone,  Coral  Trent  acting  as  interpreter. 
A  few  minutes  ago  I  was  informed  that  I  should  be  charged 
with  the  murder  and  would  be  taken  over  to  Nice  for 
examination  by  the  magistrate.  Will  you  come  and  see  me 
at  the  Prefecture  as  soon  as  possible  and  we  will  discuss 
the  problem  of  engaging  a  French  lawyer.  Always  yours, 
dearest,  M. 

"P.S.    I  need  hardly  tell  you  that  I  didn't  do  it." 

Gerry  called  up  to  her  father  who  came  down  at 
once  and  was  shown  Michael's  letter.  By  this  time 
the  Pension  Mireille  was  in  a  state  of  the  greatest 
excitement,  for  the  gendarme  who  had  brought  the 
envelope  had  given  Mme.  Ribaud  a  graphic  account 
of  the  affaire  at  the  Villa  Gloria. 


34  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"But  this  is  terrible,  Mademoiselle,  terrible," 
cried  Madame  Ribaud,  rushing  into  the  garden. 
"There  must  surely  be  some  mistake.  Monsieur 
was  so  charming.  I  am  sure  he  could  not  do  such 
a  thing.  Ah,  the  police!  They  are  imbeciles!  The 
real  murderers  always  go  unpunished." 

Martin  Crow  agreed  with  Madame  that  some 
mistake  had  most  certainly  been  made,  and  he  asked 
her  to  be  good  enough  to  ring  up  a  garage  and  order 
a  taxi  to  take  them  over  to  Nice  at  once.  Then  he 
turned  his  attention  to  Alison,  who  was  still  dazed 
by  the  shock  of  the  news.  He  sat  down  beside 
her  and  took  her  hand  in  his. 

"This  is  very  terrible  for  you,  my  dear,"  he  said, 
in  his  gentlest  tone,  "but  you  must  try  to  be  brave 
for  your  Michael's  sake.  I  have  had  a  good  deal  of 
experience  with  the  French  police  and  you  must 
remember  that  their  methods  are  not  the  same  as 
ours.  They  are  much  more  precipitate  in  taking 
action,  and  are  not  so  afraid  of  making  blunders  as 
our  police  are.  Moreover,  in  this  country,  an  arrested 
man  is  considered  guilty  until  he  has  proved  his 
innocence.  On  the  other  hand,  they  are,  in  many  ways, 
far  more  lenient.  They  give  more  consideration  to 
extenuating  circumstances." 

"But  Michael  could  not  possibly  have  done  such 
a  thing!"  Alison  cried.  "There  can  be  no  question 
of  extenu " 

"No,  no,  of  course  not,"  said  Crow,  patting  her 
hand.  "I  should  not  have  used  that  stupid  expression, 


MURDER     IS     COMMITTED  35 

but  I  wished  to  show  you  that  at  the  moment 
it  all  seems  so  much  worse  than  it  really  may  turn 
out  to  be.  I  have  just  ordered  a  taxi  to  take  us  over 
to  Nice.  Will  you  allow  us  to  take  you?" 

"Of  course,  I  shall  be  so  grateful." 

"And  directly  we  get  there  we  will  see  about 
instructing  a  French  lawyer  to  prepare  his  defence." 

"But  can't  you  do  that,  Mr.  Crow?"  Alison 
looked  disappointed. 

"You  can  rely  upon  me,  my  dear  young  lady,  to 
do  all  I  can,"  Crow  replied,  "but  a  French  lawyer 
will  be  indispensable.  We  have  the  technicalities  of 
the  law  to  consider,  and  it  is  most  important  that 
Michael's  interests  should  be  watched  by  someone 
who  is  conversant  with  all  the  details  of  procedure. 
Michael  has  declared  his  innocence,  and  you  have 
assured  me  that  he  could  not  have  committed  such 
a  crime.  I  shall  assume  both  those  statements  to  be 
true  and  shall  make  it  my  business  to  play  the  part  of 
amateur  detective,  and  search  for  clues  which  will 
establish  someone  else's  guilt." 

"You  are  very  very  kind,  Mr.  Crow.  What 
should  I  have  done  if  you  had  not  been  here?" 

"Providence,  perhaps,  foresaw  what  was  going 
to  happen  and  sent  me  on  this  little  holiday  so  that 
I  might  be  of  some  assistance  to  you,"  Crow  said 
as  he  stood  up. 

Half  an  hour  later  they  were  driving  along  the 
busy  lower  road  to  Nice  where  they  at  once  went 
to  the  British  Consulate.  The  Vice-Consul,  in  the 


36  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

absence  of  his  chief,  had  already  been  informed  of 
Michael's  arrest,  by  telephone  from  the  Prefecture, 
but  he  had  not  yet  seen  either  the  accused  or  the 
Commissaire.  The  latter  had  been  ordered  to  take 
charge  of  the  case,  from  the  Roquebrune  police, 
by  order  of  the  Prefet. 

The  Vice-Consul  listened  with  interest  to  Alison's 
account  of  the  relationship  between  Miss  Maguire 
and  her  nephew  and  said  that  a  lady  giving  the 
name  of  Coral  Trent  had  called  at  the  Consulate 
four  or  five  days  ago,  accompanied  by  a  tall,  elderly 
woman,  and  had  given  notice  that  she  wished  to 
marry  Michael  Maguire  as  soon  as  the  necessary 
formalities  could  be  complied  with.  The  Vice-Consul 
agreed  with  Martin  Crow  that  a  French  lawyer 
should  be  engaged  at  once,  and  after  a  short  dis- 
cussion they  all  went  out  to  the  waiting  car  and  drove 
to  an  office  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Palais  de  Justice. 

Maitre  Corbin,  the  lawyer,  was  a  large  bearded 
man  who  talked  in  a  loud,  sonorous  voice  and  used 
his  hands  freely  as  he  spoke.  He  listened  silently 
to  the  bare  facts  of  the  case  and  then  said  that  it 
was  useless  to  enter  into  any  discussion  until  they 
had  seen  the  accused.  He  would  accompany  them 
at  once  to  the  Prefecture  which  was  just  round 
the  corner. 

It  was  found  that  Michael  Maguire  had  been  taken 
back  to  the  Villa  Gloria  where  the  Juge  d' Instruction 
was  reconstructing  the  crime,  and  they  were  asked 
to  return  at  two  o'clock.  Maitre  Corbin  exclaimed, 


MURDER     IS     COMMITTED  37 

"Mon  Dieu!  This  is  how  they  always  keep  one 
hanging  about."  The  Vice-Consul  said,  "Well,  it 
can't  be  helped,"  and  Martin  Crow  calmly  remarked 
that  he  was  sorry  they  had  been  taken  away  from 
their  work  unnecessarily  and  hoped  that  they  would 
be  able  to  return  at  two.  Maitre  Corbin  said  that 
it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  do  so  and  then 
decided  that  he  would  come.  The  Vice-Consul 
made  no  fuss  at  all,  and  they  parted  with  many 
handshakes. 

It  was  already  past  midday,  and  Martin  Crow 
and  the  two  girls  walked  along  the  Promenade  des 
Anglais  and  lunched  on  the  terrace  of  the  Hotel 
Ruhl.  At  two  o'clock  they  returned  to  the  Pre- 
fecture where  they  found  the  Vice-Consul  and  the 
lawyer  waiting  for  them,  but  it  was  nearly  four 
o'clock  before  they  were  invited  to  go  along  to  the 
office  of  M.  Peille,  the  Commissaire. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   CASE   AGAINST   MICHAEL   MAGUIRE 

MPEILLE  was  a  short,  red-faced  man  who 
.  looked  more  like  a  genial  priest  than  a  police 
officer.  He  at  once  remembered  Martin  Crow  and 
expressed  his  delight  at  renewing  the  acquaintance 
of  his  collaborates  of  the  affaire  Jehnan.  Crow 
returned  the  compliment  in  his  perfect  French,  and 
after  he  had  introduced  Gerry  and  Alison  explained 
how  he  came  to  be  interested  in  the  case  of  Michael 
Maguire. 

"Ah!  You  have  watched  its  later  developments, 
so  to  speak,"  M.  Peille  said,  and  then  shook  his 
head  gravely.  "It  is  indeed  very  sad  for  Mademoi- 
selle," he  went  on,  indicating  Alison,  who  only  under- 
stood an  occasional  word.  "Unfortunately  the  evi- 
dence is  clear,  but  I  admit  that  it  indicates,  without 
doubt,  that  this  young  man  was  provoked  in  a 
manner  which  only  a  person  fortified  by  unusual 
self-control  could  have  faced  with  absolute  calm. 
You  are  conversant  with  the  details?" 

Maitre  Corbin  explained  how  much  was  known 
to  himself  and  his  companions. 

"I  must  first  tell  you,"  said  the  Commissaire, 
"  that  since  the  accused  is  an  Englishman,  and  the 

38 


CASE     AGAINST     MICHAEL     MAGUIRE       39 

nephew  of  one  of  the  Riviera's  most  respected 
winter  residents,  I  am  prepared  to  depart  from 
our  normal  procedure  and  lay  all  the  facts  before 
you.  I  will  present  the  case  to  you  from  our  point 
of  view.  It  was  at  ten  thirty  last  night  that  the 
Brigadier  at  the  Gendarmerie  of  Roquebrune-Cap- 
Martin  received  a  telephone  message  from  the 
Villa  Gloria  saying  that  Mile.  Maguire  had  been 
found  murdered  in  the  library.  The  Brigadier  and 
two  gendarmes  went  at  once  to  the  villa  and  found 
Mademoiselle  leaning  back  in  her  chair  at  her 
writing  table,  apparently  dead.  There  was  a  wound 
on  the  right  side  of  her  head  and  a  heavy  silver 
candlestick,  upon  which  there  were  strands  of  hair 
and  blood,  was  lying  on  the  floor. 

"The  Brigadier  was  met  by  M.  Maguire,  now  the 
accused,  the  maitre  d'hotel,  an  Englishman  named 
Boughton,  and  he  afterwards  saw  a  young  lady, 
Mile.  Trent,  who  understood  and  spoke  a  little 
French  and  acted  as  interpreter  during  the  preliminary 
interrogations.  The  accused  said  that  he  discovered 
the  crime  and,  in  answer  to  further  questions,  declared 
that  he  had  been  discussing  business  matters  with 
his  aunt  and  had  had  a  serious  disagreement  with 
her.  She  had  ordered  him  to  leave  the  villa  early  in 
the  morning  before  she  appeared,  but  he  had  elected 
to  leave  that  night.  He  went  up  to  his  room,  packed 
his  valise  and  was  about  to  go  out  by  the  front  door 
when  he  decided  that  he  would  inform  Mademoiselle, 
his  aunt,  of  his  intention.  He  left  the  valise  in  the 


40  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

hall  and  entered  the  library  where  he  had  parted 
from  his  relation  only  half  an  hour  previously.  There 
he  discovered  her  sitting  at  her  writing  table,  dead. 
The  candlestick  was  lying  on  the  floor  at  her  side. 
"That  is  the  story  of  Michael  Maguire  as  he 
related  it  to  the  Brigadier.  Boughton,  the  maitre 
d'hotel,  said  that  Mile.  Maguire  and  her  nephew 
had  been  alone  in  the  library  on  the  previous  evening 
and  that  he  had  heard  the  young  man's  voice  raised 
in  anger  several  times.  Last  night  Boughton  was 
feeling  a  little  indisposed  and  went  to  bed  earlier 
than  usual,  in  fact  he  was  going  along  the  corridor 
to  his  room  when  Mile.  Trent  came  up  the  stairs. 
At  that  moment  he  again  heard  the  accused  talking 
angrily,  and  even  when  he  was  in  his  room,  undress- 
ing, he  could  still  hear  the  voices  downstairs.  Bough- 
ton  says  that  he  had  just  got  into  bed  when  he 
heard  M.  Maguire  come  up  to  his  room  and  close 
the  door  with  a  bang.  For  a  little  while,  perhaps 
twenty  minutes,  there  was  silence  and  then  he  heard 
a  commotion  in  the  room  on  the  other  side  of  the 
passage,  the  room  of  the  accused.  Boughton  imagined 
that  the  young  man  had  given  way  to  a  violent  fit 
of  temper  and  was  throwing  his  things  about.  The 
latter  explained  this  noise  by  saying  that  he  was 
opening  and  closing  drawers  and  cupboards  while 
he  was  packing  his  valise.  However,  the  maitre 
d'hotel  did  not  become  alarmed  until  he  heard  the 
accused  come  out  of  his  room  and  go  down  the 
stairs,  and  then  he  decided  that  he  would  follow  him. 


CASE     AGAINST     MICHAEL     MAGUIRE       41 

He  put  on  a  pair  of  trousers  and  an  overcoat  and 
descended  to  the  hall  where  he  noticed  that  the 
front  door  was  open  and  a  valise  standing  beside  it. 
A  sound  attracted  him  to  the  library  and  on  entering 
the  room  he  saw  the  accused  standing  over  his  aunt 
who  was  lying  back  in  her  chair  with  blood  stream- 
ing from  her  forehead. 

"Boughton  declares  that  the  young  man  looked 
round  with  a  start  and  said  that  his  aunt  had  been 
murdered  by  someone  who  must  have  entered 
the  room  by  the  window.  Boughton  went  across 
to  both  windows  to  see  if  one  of  them  had  been 
forced  open,  but  he  found  them  both  securely 
fastened.  He  then  asked  Monsieur  to  look  at  the 
windows  in  the  salon  and  salle  k  manger  while  he 
looked  round  the  servants'  quarters.  Everything 
was  found  to  be  in  order,  shut  and  secured.  Boughton 
then  telephoned  to  the  gendarmerie." 

"Did  he  suspect  M.  Maguire  of  having  killed 
his  aunt?"  Maitre  Corbin  asked. 

"He  afterwards  told  me  that  he  was  a  little  sus- 
picious when  he  saw  him  standing  over  the  body, 
and  that  he  became  certain  when  he  found  that 
no  one  could  have  entered  the  house  by  the  windows," 
replied  the  Commissaire. 

"Did  he  accuse  M.  Maguire  before  the  police 
arrived?"  questioned  Martin  Crow. 

"No,  he  was  careful  to  conceal  his  suspicions 
because,  he  told  me,  he  did  not  want  the  police 
to  begin  by  being  prejudiced.  It  was  with  the 


42  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

greatest  reluctance  that  he  admitted  to  me  that  he 
was  afraid  M.  Maguire  had  been  carried  away  by 
a  sudden  passion  of  anger.  We  questioned  everyone 
else  in  the  house,  of  course.  The  other  servants 
were  not  able  to  help  us;  they  all  occupy  rooms  at 
the  back  of  the  villa  in  a  wing  which  is  shut  off  by 
a  door.  Mile.  Trent  could  only  say  that  she  had 
heard  her  aunt  and  cousin  quarrelling  from  her 
own  room  which  is  over  the  salon." 

"She  heard  no  cry?"  asked  Maitre  Corbin. 

"She  could  not  be  certain  about  that.  She  did 
hear  something  which  might  have  been  a  cry  or  an 
exclamation  of  anger." 

"And  you  have  arrested  the  accused  on  the  bare 
evidence  and  suspicions  of  Boughton?"  Crow  asked 
in  an  accusing  tone. 

"By  no  means,  Monsieur,"  replied  the  Com- 
missaire,  suavely.  "He  was  not  arrested  until  a 
quarter  to  five  this  morning,  several  hours  after  I 
arrived  at  tjje  Villa  Gloria  and  had  interrogated 
him  with  the  aid  of  an  official  interpreter.  During 
his  examination  of  the  villa  the  Brigadier  made 
several  important  discoveries  which  required  ex- 
planations from  M.  Maguire,  and  his  answers  were 
far  from  satisfactory." 

"I  am  not  surprised,  considering  the  hour  and 
the  circumstances,"  said  Crow. 

The   Commissaire  shrugged   his   shoulders. 

"It  is  necessary  to  interrogate  without  delay, 
Monsieur,"  he  said,  "otherwise  confusion  is 


CASE     AGAINST     MICHAEL     MAGUIRE       43 

inevitable.  During  my  questioning  he  admitted  that 
his  aunt  had  been  trying  to  compel  him  to  marry 
Mile.  Trent  although  she  knew  that  he  was  already 
affianced  to  someone  else.  Then  he  told  me  that 
Mile.  Maguire  had  shown  him  two  testamentary 
documents.  By  the  first,  which,  I  understand,  had 
been  signed  some  months  previously,  he  and  Mile. 
Trent  would  each  receive  half  of  the  defunct  lady's 
fortune  which,  he  told  me,  amounts  to  many  thou- 
sands of  livres  sterling.  By  the  second  document, 
which  was  not  yet  signed,  he  was  not  to  receive  one 
sou  unless  he  was  married  to  Mile.  Trent.  Now, 
Messieurs,  do  you  not  consider  it  strange  when  I 
tell  you  that  neither  of  those  documents  can  be 
found,  but  that  a  quantity  of  charred  paper  lies  in 
the  fireplace  in  the  library?" 

"You  suggest  that  M.  Maguire  deliberately  burnt 
them?"  demanded  Crow. 

"But  yes,  in  the  absence  of  any  satisfactory 
explanation  of  their  disappearance  to  the  contrary," 
replied  the  Commissaire  as  he  leant  back  in  his 
chair  and  polished  the  lenses  of  his  pince-nez. 

"But  would  you  expect  him  to  destroy  a  document 
by  which  he  would  inherit  half  of  his  aunt's  con- 
siderable fortune?" 

"Ah,  M.  Crow,  that  is  a  point  which  we  must 
investigate  further,"  warned  M.  Peille.  "For  the 
moment  I  offer  two  explanations  for  such  conduct. 
He  may  have  thought  that  the  terms  of  those  wills 
would  provide  us  with  a  motive  for  his  crime.  Or 


44  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

he  may  have  hoped  that  by  destroying  them  both 
he  would  inherit  the  whole  of  his  aunt's  fortune." 

"The  whole  of  it!"  exclaimed  Crow.  "I  do  not 
understand,  M.  le  Commissaire." 

"Is  it  not  a  fact,"  asked  M.  Peille,  "that  by 
your  English  law  everything  goes  to  the  nearest 
relation  if  a  person  dies  without  making  a  will?" 

"Yes,  yes,  but  ..." 

"From  what  M.  Maguire  has  told  me  it  seems 
that  he  is  his  aunt's  next-of-kin." 

"But  the  idea  is  preposterous,  my  dear  sir!" 
Martin  Crow  cried,  indignantly.  "Do  you  seriously 
think  that  a  young  man  of  his  character  and  position 
would  commit  murder  because  he  wanted  to  inherit 
two  hundred  thousand  pounds  instead  of  one  hun- 
dred thousand,  or  whatever  the  amounts  might  be?" 

"More  extraordinary  things  than  that  have  come 
under  my  notice,  Mr.  Crow." 

"I  cannot  believe  that  any  man  could  be  so 
avaricious,  or  that  any  sane  man  would  have  been 
so  frank,  as  the  accused  appears  to  have  been  with 
you,  unless  he  were  innocent.  Reflect,  M.  Peille, 
practically  everything  which  he  has  told  you  has 
prejudiced  your  mind  against  him.  He  need  not 
have  told  you  a  quarter  of  what  he  did." 

"Yes,  that  is  possible,"  admitted  the  Commis- 
saire, "but  let  me  remind  you  that  it  was  not  until 
I  had  interrogated  him  for  nearly  three  hours  that 
I  was  able  to  wrench  from  him  the  details  of  his 
quarrel  with  his  aunt." 


CASE     AGAINST     MICHAEL     MAGUIRE       45 

"Have  you  at  any  time  suspected  Boughton  or 
any  of  the  other  servants  ? "  asked  Maitre  Corbin. 

"But  what  motive  could  any  of  them  have  had  for 
killing  the  woman  who  employed  them;  and  the 
maitre  d'hotel  least  of  all." 

"Why  do  you  lay  stress  on  him?"  asked  Crow. 

"He  had  no  reason  for  supposing  that  he  would 
benefit  in  any  way  under  Mademoiselle's  will  and 
her  death  might  very  well  mean  that  he  will  lose  a 
good  position.  Moreover,  when  he  was  questioned 
he  gave  his  evidence  readily  and  without  any  con- 
fusion or  contradictions.  Nothing  which  we  have 
discovered  has  in  any  way  pointed  to  him  as  the 
guilty  one.  On  the  other  hand  the  Brigadier  found 
five  mille  notes  stuffed  into  a  corner  of  the  accused's 
valise.  Now,  Mile.  Trent  has  told  us  that  yesterday 
evening  during  dinner,  she  heard  her  cousin  telling 
her  aunt  that  he  had  only  two  hundred  francs  and 
a  little  English  money  in  his  possession,  and  he  has 
admitted  that  that  is  correct.  Mile.  Trent  also 
informed  us  that  yesterday  morning  she  and  her 
aunt  and  her  cousin  went  into  Monte  Carlo  and 
visited  the  English  Bank  where  Mile.  Maguire  drew 
out  six  thousand  francs.  One  of  the  mille  notes 
which  she  was  given  was  changed  while  they  were 
shopping,  the  remaining  five  she  locked  in  her  safe 
when  she  returned  to  the  villa." 

"Mile.  Trent  saw  her  put  them  there?"  asked 
Crow. 

"Yes." 


46  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Did  the  accused  go  into  the  bank  and  see  his 
aunt  withdraw  the  money?"  questioned  the  lawyer. 

"Both  he  and  Mile.  Trent  went  in." 

"And  did  he  know  that  the  five  mille  notes  had 
been  locked  away  in  the  safe?" 

"He  told  me  that  he  did  not  know,"  answered 
the  Commissaire.  "But  that  is  of  no  importance. 
Mile.  Maguire  had  left  the  safe  door  wide  open 
when  she  took  out  the  wills,  so  he  would  have  had 
no  difficulty  in  finding  them." 

"And  did  you  make  any  other  incriminating  dis- 
coveries, M.  Peille?" 

"Yes.  Several  streaks  of  blood  on  the  sleeve  of 
M.  Maguire's  jacket.  I  think  you  will  admit,  Mes- 
sieurs, that  I  found  myself  possessed  with  much 
evidence  which  pointed  to  M.  Maguire  as  the 
murderer,  and  when  I  took  into  consideration 
the  unsatisfactory  manner  in  which  he  gave  us 
information,  I  felt  fully  justified  in  arresting  him. 
It " 

"One  moment,  M.  Peille,"  interrupted  Crow. 
"What,  exactly  do  you  mean  by  'unsatisfactory 
manner'?" 

"I  refer,  Monsieur,  to  his  initial  reluctance  to 
talk.  If  he  had  started  by  telling  the  Brigadier  of 
everything  that  had  happened;  if,  with  me,  he  had 
at  once  given  the  reason  for  his  disagreement  with 
his  aunt  and  had  then  explained  about  the  testa- 
mentary documents,  I  should  not  have  been  so 
ready  to  suspect  him.  But  I  assure  you  I  had  to 


CASE     AGAINST     MICHAEL     MAGUIRE       47 

drag  all  those  facts  from  him;  yes,  I  dragged  them, 
word  by  word." 

Martin  Crow,  who  seldom  allowed  himself  to 
be  easily  influenced  until  he  had  personally  made 
at  least  a  preliminary  investigation  of  the  facts, 
could  not  help  feeling  that  the  case  against  Michael 
Maguire  was,  indeed,  a  formidable  one. 

"I  suppose  you  have  examined  the  candlestick 
for  finger-prints?"  he  asked. 

"I  was  about  to  tell  you,  a  few  seconds  ago,  that  I 
received  a  report  from  the  experts  just  before  you 
arrived.  The  finger-prints  on  the  candlestick  were, 
without  doubt,  made  by  the  accused." 

"You  have  confronted  him  with  that  evidence?" 

"But  naturally." 

"What  does  he  say?" 

"He  explained  it  by  saying  that  he  handled  the 
candlestick  while  he  was  arguing  with  Mile.  Maguire," 
replied  the  Commissaire,  gravely.  "And  now, 
Messieurs,  I  will  have  him  brought  in,"  he  added, 
as  he  touched  a  bell  on  his  desk. 


CHAPTER  VI 
"LE  MEURTRIER" 

THE  news  that  murder  had  been  committed  at 
the  Villa  Gloria  had  not  reached  the  ears  of 
the  newspaper  reporters  until  the  £claireur  de  Nice 
and  the  Petit  Nifeois  were  already  being  sold  in  the 
kiosks,  but  by  midday  Michael  Maguire  was  being 
spoken  of  as  le  meurtrier  and  Miss  Maguire  as  la 
victime.  In  France  reporters  and  sub-editors  do  not 
have  to  worry  about  that  word  "alleged"  which  is 
of  such  importance  in  English  journalism.  Directly 
a  man  is  arrested  in  France,  however  slight  the 
evidence  against  him  may  be,  he  is  referred  to  as 
le  meurtrier,  Vassassin,  or  le  voleur,  according  to  the 
nature  of  the  crime  which  he  is  supposed  to  have 
committed;  and  as  long  as  a  year  or  eighteen  months 
may  elapse  before  he  is  finally  brought  before  the 
judge  and  jury.  During  that  time  the  unfortunate 
individual  is  repeatedly  questioned  by  the  Juge 
d*  Instruction  whose  business  it  is  to  collect  all  avail- 
able information  resulting  from  the  cross-examina- 
tion of  witnesses  before  the  trial  commences.  Under 
this  method  the  evidence  of  each  witness  often  gives 
the  Juge  d*  Instruction  a  fresh  excuse  to  re-examine 
the  accused. 

48 


"LE    MEURTRIER"  49 

Since  the  discovery  of  the  crime  at  the  Villa  Gloria 
Michael  Maguire  had  been  questioned  for  more  than 
an  hour  by  the  Brigadier,  and  upon  the  arrival  of 
the  Commissaire  from  Nice  he  had  been  subjected 
to  a  further  and  searching  interrogation,  which  had 
lasted  for  nearly  three  hours.  After  his  arrival  at 
Nice  he  was  questioned  by  the  Juge  d*  Instruction, 
and  when  he  was  taken  back  to  the  villa  at  about 
midday,  for  a  reconstruction  of  the  crime,  further 
questions  were  put  to  him. 

When  Michael  walked  into  the  Commissaire's 
room,  followed  by  a  gendarme,  Alison  gave  a  little 
cry  and  would  have  gone  up  to  him  if  Martin  Crow 
had  not  gently  restrained  her.  Michael  smiled  and 
gave  her  a  "hullo"  which  sadly  lacked  the  cheeriness 
which  was  obviously  intended.  His  dark,  waving 
hair  was  ruffled,  his  cheeks  were  pale,  and  dark  rings 
surrounded  his  eyes.  As  he  glanced  enquiringly  at 
the  row  of  unfamiliar  faces  the  Commissaire  motioned 
him  to  a  chair  beside  his  own,  and  then  invited 
Martin  Crow  and  Maitre  Corbin  to  put  whatever 
questions  they  wished  to  the  accused.  There  was 
a  short  consultation  between  the  two  men  and  then 
Crow  addressed  Michael. 

"You  are  no  doubt  wondering,  Mr.  Maguire, 
what  so  many  strange  people  are  doing  here,"  he 
said.  "My  name  is  Martin  Crow,  and  this  is  my 
daughter.  You  may  not  have  noticed  us  the  day 
before  yesterday  at  the  Pension  Mireille  where  we 
are  staying.  We  made  the  acquaintance  of  Miss 


50  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

Beamish  last  evening  and  she  confided  to  us  your 
difficulties.  You  probably  do  not  know  my  name, 
for  you  would  have  been  a  schoolboy  when  I  appeared 
as  defending  counsel  in  many  important  trials  in 
England.  For  the  last  few  years  I  have  interested 
myself  in  the  investigation  of  crime,  and  when  I 
heard  of  your  arrest  this  morning  I  offered  my 
services,  for  what  they  may  be  worth,  to  Miss 
Beamish." 

"That  was  very  good  of  you,  sir,"  said  Michael, 
with  a  nervous  smile. 

"I  am  most  anxious  to  do  what  I  can  for  you," 
Crow  replied.  "When  I  was  told  that  you  were  not 
already  represented  by  a  French  lawyer  I  went  to 
see  our  Consul  who  has  come  here  with  us. 
He  kindly  recommended  Maitre  Corbin  who  will 
advise  you  legally.  For  myself  I  can  only  use 
my  wits  and  try  to  discover  who  committed  the 
crime." 

"I  swear  that  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  it!" 
Michael  cried,  rising  from  his  seat.  "You  do  believe 
that,  don't  you,  Alison?" 

The  girl  was  on  the  verge  of  tears. 

"Of  course  I  do.  How  could  I  believe  otherwise?" 
she  mumured. 

"Thank  God!  I've  been  so  afraid "  The 

young  man  left  the  sentence  unfinished  and  with  a 
gesture — as  if  to  imply  that  it  did  not  matter  what 
he  feared — sat  down  again. 

Martin  Crow  and  Maitre  Corbin  conferred  again 


"LE   MEURTRIER"  51 

for  a  few  moments  and  then  the  former  addressed 
the  Commissaire. 

"M.  Peille,"  he  said,  speaking  French,  "I  have 
just  consulted  Maitre  Corbin,  who  only  has  a  very 
slight  knowledge  of  English  and,  with  your  consent, 
my  daughter  will  take  down  a  shorthand  report  of  the 
questions  which  I  put  to  M.  Maguire  and  the  answers 
which  he  gives,  and  she  will  make  a  translation. 
Maitre  Corbin  will  then  be  in  possession  of  certain 
facts  which  should  assist  him  in  preparing  the 
defence." 

"By  all  means,  M.  Crow.  If  Mademoiselle,  your 
daughter,  will  sit  at  my  table  she  will  find  paper  and 
ink  at  her  disposal." 

M.  Peille  smiled  at  Gerry  and  gave  her  his  chair. 
As  soon  as  she  was  ready,  Crow  said: — 

"Now,  Mr.  Maguire,  Maitre  Corbin  and  I  know 
all  about  the  position  between  yourself,  Miss  Beamish 
and  your  aunt  up  to  the  time  when  you  went  to  the 
Villa  Gloria  on  Monday  afternoon.  If  Maitre  Corbin 
wishes  to  hear  anything  concerning  that  from  your 
own  lips  we  can  come  back  to  it  later  on,  so  I  will 
ask  you  to  begin  by  giving  an  account  of  your  arrival 
at  the  villa."  Martin  Crow  leant  across  to  the 
lawyer  and  translated  what  he  had  just  said.  The 
latter  nodded  his  approval.  "Now,  Mr.  Maguire. 
Take  your  time  and  don't  be  afraid  of  giving  us 
details." 

Michael  coughed  nervously,  gave  everyone  in  the 
room  a  swift  glance  and  then  began, 


52  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"I  arrived  at  the  Villa  Gloria  at  about  four  o'clock 
and  found  my  aunt  and  her  niece,  Miss  Trent,  having 
tea  in  the  garden.  Miss  Maguire  greeted  me  in  her 
usual  rather  formal  manner  and  asked  me  if  I  had 
had  a  comfortable  journey.  She  assumed  that  I 
had  just  come  by  the  afternoon  train." 

"You  had  actually  arrived  in  the  morning  with 
Miss  Beamish  with  whom  you  lunched  at  the  Pension 
Mireille?"  Crow  prompted. 

"Yes.  I  was  given  tea  and  at  about  five  o'clock 
my  aunt  said  that  she  had  ordered  the  car  and  that 
I  was  to  drive  with  Miss  Trent  for  a  couple  of  hours. 
We  returned  to  the  villa  at  seven,  dined  half  an  hour 
later,  and  after  dinner  went  into  the  library  where 
we  played  three-handed  Bridge.  At  half  past  nine, 
when  we  had  finished  a  rubber,  Miss  Maguire  said 
to  my  cousin,  '  Now,  if  you  go  off  to  bed,  darling,  I 
can  have  a  little  business  talk  with  Michael.'  As 
soon  as  we  were  alone  my  aunt  coolly  informed 
me  that  she  had  made  arrangements  for  me  to 
marry  Miss  Trent  at  the  British  Consulate  at 
Nice  next  week.  Of  course  I  was  dumbfounded 
and " 

"One  moment,"  interrupted  Crow.  "Am  I  right 
in  supposing  that  you  had  previously  suspected 
that  your  aunt  might  wish  you  to  marry  your 
cousin?" 

"Yes,  both  Alison  and  I  had  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  she  might  want  me  to  do  that,  but  it  never 
occurred  to  either  of  us  that  she  would  rush  at  it 


"  LE     MEURTRIER  "  53 

as  she  did,  without  considering  my  own  wishes  at 
all.  However,  after  making  her  astounding  announce- 
ment she  reeled  off  a  list  of  Miss  Trent's  virtues 
and  asked  me  if  I  did  not  consider  her  a  very  charm- 
ing girl.  I  replied  that  I  did  not  think  my  cousin's 
charm  came  into  the  matter  and  that  she  seemed 
to  have  forgotten  that  I  intended  marrying  Miss 
Beamish.  My  aunt  pretended  to  treat  my  remark 
as  a  joke  and  laughed.  She  told  me  not  to  be  foolish. 
I  reminded  her  that,  with  her  approval  I  was  actually 
engaged  to  Alison,  and  I  was  on  the  point  of  telling 
her  that  I  should  not  consider  marrying  my  cousin 
even  if  I  were  not  already  engaged. 

"I  could  see  that  my  aunt  was  becoming  furiously 
angry,  and  was  expecting  an  outburst  from  her,  but 
she  managed  to  control  herself  and  silenced  me 
with  an  imperious  gesture.  She  said  that  she  refused 
to  hear  another  word  from  me  until  I  had  had  time 
to  consider  the  question  very  carefully.  She  reminded 
me  that  I  was  entirely  dependent  upon  her  generosity, 
and  said  that  she  hoped  I  would  not  compel  her  to 
cut  off  all  supplies  and  remove  my  name  from  her 
will." 

"And  did  the  interview  end  there?" 

"Yes,  she  began  to  set  out  her  Patience  cards  and 
I  went  up  to  my  room.  Last  night  we  played  Bridge 
again;  as  before,  Miss  Trent  was  told  to  go  to  bed; 
and  when  we  were  alone  my  aunt  began  by  saying, 
'  Well,  I  hope  that  you  have  considered  very  carefully 
what  I  said  last  night  and  have  come  to  a  reasonable 


54  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

decision.'  I  replied  that  I  was  still  of  the  same 
opinion  and  that  nothing  would  induce  me  to  marry 
my  cousin.  My  aunt  went  deathly  white  and  stood 
rigid  with  anger  for  at  least  a  couple  of  minutes, 
then  her  hand  shot  out  and  pointed  to  the  chair 
opposite  to  the  one  in  which  she  always  sits  at  the 
writing-table.  'Sit  down!'  she  cried,  threateningly. 
Thinking  that  it  was  useless  to  make  her  more 
furious  over  a  trifle,  I  obeyed  and  she  went  across 
to  the  safe,  which  is  in  a  corner  of  the  room.  She 
unlocked  it  and  came  back  with  two  legal-looking 
documents. 

"  'This  is  my  will,'  she  said  as  she  sat  down, 
facing  me.  Then  she  went  on  to  explain  that  there 
were  two  wills,  one  of  which  was  executed  and  the 
other  ready  for  her  signature  to  be  appended  at  any 
time.  She  unfolded  the  first  and  spread  it  out  on 
the  table  before  her.  She  said  that  it  had  been  signed 
last  summer  and  that  by  its  terms  I  was  to  inherit 
Merryfields;  her  estate  in  England,  and  something 
like  £50,000;  and  that  she  was  leaving  a  similar  sum 
and  the  villa  to  her  niece,  Miss  Trent.  She  went  on 
to  explain  that  a  previous  will  had  left  everything 
to  me.  She  had  made  that  at  a  time  when  she  did 
not  know  that  'darling  Coral  was  going  to  be  left 
practically  destitute' — I  have  used  my  aunt's  exact 
words.  Then  she  took  up  the  second,  unsigned 
will  and  said:  'This  will  be  signed  to-morrow  unless 
you  give  me  a  solemn  undertaking  that  you  will 
marry  Coral  next  week.  In  it  I  leave  everything  to 


"  LE    MEURTRIER"  55 

her,  absolutely.  Your  name  does  not  appear  in 
it.' " 

"I  tried  hard  to  propitiate  my  aunt.  I  asked  her 
how  she  could  expect  me  suddenly  to  throw  Alison 
over  and  marry  a  girl  for  whom  I  didn't  care  tuppence. 
She  laughed,  a  hard,  cynical  laugh,  and  said  that 
Miss  Beamish  did  not  concern  her.  I  asked  her 
why  she  wished  me  to  marry  my  cousin,  and  she 
replied  that  she  was  not  in  the  habit  of  giving  her 
reasons  for  her  wishes  to  anyone.  Then,  in  spite  of 
what  she  had  just  said,  she  told  me  that  she  intended 
her  money  and  her  property  to  remain  associated 
with  the  name  Maguire,  of  which  she  had  always 
been  very  proud,  and  that  she  was  determined  that 
her  niece  should  inherit  both,  either  alone,  or  with 
the  man  she  married,  and  that  she  was  equally 
determined  to  protect  her  from  falling  into  the  hands 
of  fortune-hunters. 

"I  then  began  to  speak  in  a  less  conciliatory  tone, 
and  said  that  I  wasn't  going  to  wreck  my  life  just 
to  protect  Coral  and  to  satisfy  her  own  whim,  and 
that  I  should  have  thought  her  sense  of  decency, 
to  say  nothing  of  common  justice,  would  have 
prevented  her  from  trying  to  force  two  people  into 
a  marriage  against  their  wishes." 

"Did  you  know  at  all  in  what  light  Miss  Trent 
regarded  you?"  asked  Crow.  Michael  Maguire 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  really  hadn't  thought  about  it.  I  suppose  she 
was  quite  indifferent  to  me.  She  had  never  shown 


56  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

any  signs  of  being  in  any  way  attracted  by  me,  but, 
of  course,  I  hardly  knew  her." 

"Quite.    Please  proceed." 

"At  my  last  remark  my  aunt  completely  lost  her 
temper.  She  banged  her  fist  upon  the  table  and  upset 
an  inkpot;  she  called  me  selfish,  ungrateful  and 
utterly  inconsiderate,  and  then  began  to  write  a 
letter  to  her  London  bank  to  tell  them  to  discontinue 
making  payments  for  my  monthly  allowance.  I'm 
afraid  I  let  fly  at  that  point  and  told  her  just  what 
I  thought  of  her.  She  pretended  not  to  be  listening, 
and  just  went  on  writing  her  letter.  That  infuriated 
me  still  more  and  I  took  up  a  silver  candlestick  and 
banged  it  down  on  the  desk.  That  seemed  really 
to  startle  her.  She  looked  up  and  tried  to  speak,  but 
half  a  minute  or  more  elapsed  before  she  uttered 
a  sound.  'Go,'  she  said,  pointing  towards  the  door, 
'  and  be  out  of  this  villa  before  I  am  up  in  the  morning. 
I  never  want  to  see  you,  or  hear  from  you  again.  I've 
done  with  you,  you  ungrateful  wretch.'  ' 

Michael  paused  and  leant  back  in  his  chair  as  if 
he  were  exhausted.  Martin  Crow  asked  the  Com- 
missaire  if  he  might  be  given  a  drink  of  water,  and 
after  a  few  minutes  an  attendant  brought  some  in 
a  glass. 

"I'm  sorry  to  have  to  make  you  go  over  all  this 
again,"  Crow  said,  "but  it  is  most  necessary  that  we 
should  know  exactly  what  happened." 

Michael  made  an  attempt  to  smile  and  then  went 
on, 


"LE    MEURTRIER  57 

"I  went  up  to  my  room  and " 

"Forgive  me  for  interrupting,  but  can  you  tell 
us  how  you  went  out,  calmly  or ?" 

"I  suppose  I  threw  my  weight  about  a  bit.  I 

was  feeling  like  h as  if  I  didn't  care  a  damn  for 

anything  or  anybody.  When  I  got  upstairs  I  sat 
on  my  bed  for — oh,  I  don't  know  how  long  it  was, 
perhaps  twenty  minutes  or  half  an  hour,  and  tried 
to  think  things  out.  Without  my  aunt's  allowance 
I  was  going  to  be  penniless,  and  would  be  unable 
to  take  my  final.  My  future  seemed  to  be  hopeless 
and  I  couldn't  see  what  I  was  going  to  do.  Eventually 
I  decided  that  whatever  happened  later  I  wouldn't 
remain  in  the  villa  any  longer  and,  with  the  intention 
of  going  down  to  the  Pension  I  packed  my  bag. 
As  I  was  on  the  point  of  letting  myself  out  by  the 
front  door  I  thought  I  would  like  to  tell  my  aunt 
that  she  could  sleep  without  having  the  unpleasant 
thought  that  I  was  under  the  same  roof.  I  left  my 
bag  in  the  hall  and  went  into  the  library.  As  I 
opened  the  door  I  saw  my  aunt  leaning  back  in  her 
chair  with  blood  streaming  from  her  forehead.  She 
was  dead." 

"How  did  you  know  that?"  asked  Crow. 

"From  her  attitude,  and  then  I  went  up  to  her  and 
found  that  there  was  no  pulse." 

"Did  you  move  the  body  at  all?" 

"No,  I  only  touched  the  wrist  with  the  tips  of 
my  fingers." 

"Yes,  and  what  did  you  do  then?" 


58  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"It  was  while  I  was  feeling  for  the  pulse  that 
Boughton,  the  butler,  came  into  the  room  and 
exclaimed:  'My  God!  What's  happened ?'  or  some- 
thing like  that.  Then  he  rushed  across  to  the  windows 
and  said:  'But  who  could  have  done  it?  They're 
both  fastened.'  He  looked  at  me  in  a  curious  way 
and  I  guessed  that  he  suspected  me.  He  suggested 
that  the  murderer  must  have  forced  some  other 
window  and  asked  me  to  search  the  drawing-room 
and  dining-room  while  he  went  round  the  servants' 
quarters.  He  said  he  had  locked  up  everything  before 
he  went  to  bed,  and  we  both  found  everything 
fastened.  Then  he  went  into  the  hall  and  telephoned 
to  the  police." 

"Were  the  library  windows  shut  when  you  were 
quarrelling  with  your  aunt?" 

"I  couldn't  say.   I  didn't  notice." 

"Or  when  you  went  back  and  discovered  that  she 
had  been  murdered?" 

"I'm  sorry,  I  didn't  notice  the  windows  at  any 
time." 

"When  you  were  upstairs,  in  your  room,  did 
you  hear  anything  which  might  have  been  a 
cry?" 

"No.  I  heard  nothing.  I  had  too  much  to  think 
about  to  pay  any  attention  to  noises." 

"And  did  you  tell  the  Commissaire  what  you  have 
just  told  us." 

"Yes,  as  nearly  as  possible." 

"But   you  did  not  give  all  that  information  to 


"  LE   MEURTRIER"  59 

the    police    who     were    first    summoned    to    the 
villa?" 

"I  said  that  I  had  quarrelled  with  my  aunt  over 
some  business  matter." 

"You  did  not  mention  the  wills  then?" 

"No." 

"Why  didn't  you?" 

"I  did  not  think  that  such  details  concerned  the 
police." 

"You  know  that  someone  destroyed  the  wills  in 
the  fire?" 

"Yes,  the  Commissaire  told  me." 

"Did  you  realise  that  they  had  been  burnt  when 
you  discovered  the  crime?" 

"No,  I  knew  nothing  about  their  destruction 
until  the  Commissaire  questioned  me  about 
them." 

"M.  Peille  complains  that  he  had  the  greatest 
difficulty  in  getting  anything  out  of  you." 

Michael  sighed  as  if  he  were  utterly  weary. 

"When  you  are  tired,  and  have  had  a  sudden 
shock,  and  then  have  dozens  of  questions  fired  at 
you  through  an  interpreter,  it  is  not  easy  to  give 
your  answers  clearly  and  readily." 

"Yes,  I  quite  understand  that,"  said  Crow, 
sympathetically.  "Then  you  can  assure  me  that 
you  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  destruction  of  the 
wills?" 

"Of  course  I  didn't,"  replied  Michael,  almost 
angrily." 


60  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Has  she  any  relatives  living,  besides  yourself  and 
Miss  Trent?" 

"Not  so  far  as  I  know." 

"Very  well,  we  will  leave  it  at  that.  I  am  sorry 
that  I  have  been  obliged  to  press  you,  but  I  wanted 
to  make  sure  of  your  own  views  of  the  situation. 
I  am  afraid  I  must  ask  you  a  few  more  questions. 
How  much  money  had  you  in  your  possession  when 
you  sat  talking  to  your  aunt  last  night?" 

"About  two  hundred  francs  and  a  pound 
note." 

"M.  Peille  tells  me  that  five  mille  notes  were 
found  stuffed  into  your  suit-case.  Can  you  account 
for  their  presence  there?" 

"I  can't.  Someone  must  have  put  them  there. 
I  didn't." 

"Do  you  suspect  anyone  of  having  done  that?" 

"I  cannot  imagine  who  would  have  done  such  a 
thing." 

"When  did  Miss  Trent  first  appear  after  you 
discovered  the  crime?" 

"I  saw  her  coming  downstairs  after  I  had  been 
round  the  drawing-room  and  dining-room." 

"Did  she  know  what  had  happened?" 

"No,  she  asked  me  what  all  the  commotion  was 
about  and  I  broke  the  news  to  her." 

"What  did  she  say?" 

"Not  a  word.  She  seemed  to  be  dazed  and  stood 
perfectly  still  for  half  a  minute  or  so.  Then  she 
moved  as  if  she  were  about  to  go  into  the  library, 


"  LE    MEURTRIER"  61 

but   I   stopped   her   and   led   her   into   the   dining- 
room." 

"Have  you  any  theories  as  to  the  identity  of  your 
aunt's  assailant?" 

"None  whatever.  To  me  it  is  an  inexplicable 
mystery." 

"Was  the  front  door  fastened  when  you  opened 
it?" 

"I  think  it  was,  but  I  wouldn't  swear  to  it.  I  was 
pretty  well  worked  up  at  the  time.  I  believe  Boughton 
has  told  the  police  that  he  bolted  it  when  he  was 
shutting  up  the  house." 

"Now,  just  one  more  question,  Mr.  Maguire, 
do  you  suspect,  even  in  the  smallest  degree,  any 
member  of  your  aunt's  household?" 

"I  have  already  told  you,  Mr.  Crow,  that  I  suspect 
no  one." 

Martin  Crow  stood  up. 

"Thank  you,"  he  said.  "I  am  sorry  that  I  have 
had  to  trouble  you  so  much,  but  I  assure  you  that 
I  did  so  in  your  own  interests.  I  am  afraid  that  you 
must  resign  yourself  to  being  detained  for  some 
considerable  time,  but  you  can  rely  upon  Maitre 
Corbin  and  myself  doing  everything  in  our  power 
to  secure  your  early  release." 

"It  is  very  good  of  you,  but  I  hope  you  remember 
that  I  have  no  money  with  which  to  pay  for  my 
defence." 

"That  is  a  matter  over  which  you  need  not  worry, 
my  dear  fellow."  Then  turning  to  the  Commissaire, 


62  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

Crow  asked,  "Have  Mile.  Maguire's  lawyers  in 
England  been  communicated  with?" 

"Mile.  Trent  has  given  me  an  address  and  it  was 
my  intention  to  visit  the  British  Consulate  directly 
I  returned  from  Roquebrune  to  ask  M.  le  Consul 
to  deal  with  such  formalities  as  come  within  his 
jurisdiction." 

"If  you  will  give  me  the  name  and  address  of  the 
lawyer,  M.  Peille,  I  will  telegraph  to  him  at  once," 
the  Consul  said. 

The  Commissaire  searched  amongst  a  sheaf  of 
papers  and  found  the  one  he  wanted. 

"I  shall  be  obliged  if  you  will  do  what  is  necessary, 
M.  le  Consul,"  he  said.  "And  now,  gentlemen,  do 
you  wish  to  ask  the  accused  any  further  questions?" 

Crow  and  Maitre  Corbin  consulted  for  a  few 
moments. 

"Not  for  the  present,"  the  former  said,  "but  I 
should  be  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  view  the  body 
as  soon  as  possible;  and  I  should  like  to  inspect  the 
Villa  Gloria,  particularly  the  room  where  the  crime 
was  committed." 

"But  yes;  I  will  write  a  little  order  to  my  colleague 
at  the  Commissariat  at  Menton  and  he  will  conduct 
you  to  the  mortuary  at  any  time,"  replied  M.  Peille 
as  he  sat  down  in  the  chair  which  Gerry  had  been 
occupying.  "As  for  the  villa,  M.  Crow,  you  are 
at  liberty  to  go  there  at  any  time,  and  I  will  give 
instructions  to  the  gendarme  on  duty  to  admit  you 
to  the  library,  but  perhaps  you  would  like  me  to 


"LEMEURTRIER"  63 

meet  you  there  so  that  I  can  explain  to  you  just  how 
the  body  was  found?" 

Martin  Crow  accepted  this  invitation,  and  after 
Alison  had  taken  leave  of  Michael  they  departed. 
Crow  and  the  two  girls  drove  back  to  Roquebrune 
where  the  latter  were  dropped,  while  the  former  went 
on  to  Menton,  where  he  paid  a  visit  to  the  mortuary. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  VILLA   GLORIA 

WHEN  Martin  Crow  returned  from  Menton 
he  was  silent  and  preoccupied  and  Gerry 
warned  Alison  that  it  would  not  be  judicious  to 
question  him  while  he  was  in  that  mood.  They 
dined  together  and  sat  in  the  garden  until  it  was 
time  to  go  to  bed. 

"Sleep  well,  my  dear,"  Crow  said  as  he  stood  up 
and  held  Alison's  hand;  "and  try  not  to  worry  too 
much." 

"You  don't  think  for  one  minute  that  he  did  it, 
do  you?"  she  asked  anxiously. 

"My  dear  Miss  .  .  .  but  why  should  we  be  so 
formal?  Gerry,  I  notice,  calls  you  Alison,  so  why 
shouldn't  I?" 

"Of  course,  Mr.  Crow.  I  asked  her  to.  I  some- 
how feel  as  if  I  had  known  you  both  for  ages.  But 
you  don't  think ?" 

"No,  I  do  not;  in  fact  I  feel  very  certain  that 
your  Michael  is  the  victim  of  a  tangle  of  evidence 
which,  at  first  sight,  may  go  to  the  making  of  a 
formidable  case  against  him;  and  my  experience 
tells  me  that  we  must  not  belittle  one  single  shred 
of  that  evidence.  We  must  respect  it  and  strive  to 

64 


THE     VILLA     GLORIA  65 

break  it  down,  shred  by  shred.  Already  I  can  detect 
several  flaws  in  the  case  which  the  police  are  trying 
to  build  up,  and  I  am  hoping  that  our  visit  to  the 
Villa  Gloria  to-morrow  will  reveal  more  weak  spots. 
I  wonder  if  you  would  like  to  do  a  little  investigating 
on  your  own  account  in  the  morning?" 

Alison  opened  her  eyes  very  wide. 

"But  what  can  I  do,  Mr.  Crow?" 

"Try  to  find  out  anything  about  Miss  Maguire. 
You  speak  French?" 

"A  little,  of  sorts." 

"It  is  probably  sufficient.  When  I  returned  from 
Menton  this  evening  I  noticed  that  there  are  several 
small  shops  on  the  main  road;  an  epicerie,  a  small 
estate  agent's  office,  and  the  English  tea-rooms. 
I  suggest  that  you  occupy  your  time  buying  one 
or  two  little  things  and  chatting  with  the  people. 
You  might  learn  quite  a  lot  over  a  cup  of  coffee 
at  the  Four-and-Twenty  Blackbirds.  Will  you 
try?" 

"Of  course.  I  was  rather  dreading  having  to  hang 
about  all  the  morning  doing  nothing." 

"That  will  be  splendid,  my  dear,  and  I  am  sure 
that  you  can  be  of  the  greatest  help." 

The  next  morning  the  Commissaire  telephoned  to 
say  that  he  would  be  detained  in  Nice  for  a  little 
while  and  might  not  get  over  to  Roquebrune  much 
before  eleven  o'clock. 

"But  please  do  not  wait  for  me,"  he  said  to  Crow. 
"  If  you  go  on  to  the  Villa  you  can,  perhaps,  have  a 


66  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

little  talk  with  Mile.  Trent.    It  is  possible  that  you 
may  learn  something  of  interest  from  her." 

"Does  that  mean  that  he  isn't  feeling  too  sure  of 
his  case?"  Alison  asked  when  she  heard  what 
M.  Peille  had  said. 

"It  is  possible,"  Crow  replied,  "but  I  rather 
fancy  that  he  is  trying  to  push  some  of  the  responsi- 
bility on  to  my  shoulders.  These  French  police  are 
compelled,  in  such  cases,  to  take  action  against 
English  people,  but  they  don't  like  doing  it.  If  they 
make  a  blunder  there  is  too  much  fuss  made,  for  their 
liking.  Well,  my  dear,  Gerry  and  I  will  be  off  and 
we  will  leave  you  to  get  to  work  in  your  own  way." 

The  Villa  Gloria  stood  on  the  right  of  the  old 
tram  route  to  Cap  Martin,  and  its  green  shuttered 
windows  looked  straight  across  the  bay  to  Monte 
Carlo.  It  was  a  large,  white  villa  with  a  roof  of 
green  glazed  tiles,  and  most  of  the  west  front  was 
covered  by  a  large  bougainvillaea  which  was  in  full 
bloom.  It  was  approached  from  the  road  by  a 
short  flight  of  steps  which  went  down  to  the  front 
door.  The  garden  was  large  and  well  shaded  with 
mimosa,  pepper,  olive  and  eucalyptus  trees,  and 
sloped  steeply  down  to  the  railway  line  a  hundred 
feet  below.  The  door  was  opened  by  the  butler, 
a  tall,  good-looking  man  of  about  fifty. 

"I  am  meeting  M.  Peille,  the  Commissaire,  here 
very  shortly,"  Crow  told  him.  "Will  you  please  give 
my  card  to  Miss  Trent  and  ask  her  if  she  would  be 
good  enough  to  spare  me  a  few  minutes?" 


THE     VILLA     GLORIA  67 

The  butler  stood  back  and  invited  them  to  enter, 
and  they  found  themselves  in  a  large,  white-walled 
hall  from  which  a  broad  stone  staircase,  with  wrought 
iron  balusters,  led  with  three  turns  to  the  floor 
above. 

"If  you  will  come  into  the  drawing-room,  sir, 
I  will  ask  Miss  Trent  if  she  can  see  you ;  but  may  I 
first  presume  to  ask  if  you  are  a  friend  of  Mr. 
Michael?" 

"Your  surmise  is  correct,"  Crow  replied,  with  his 
genial  smile. 

"I  am  glad,  sir,"  the  man  said,  earnestly,  and  then 
threw  open  the  two  glass  doors  which  gave  access 
to  the  salon.  "  It  is  a  terrible  predicament  for  a  young 
gentleman  to  find  himself  in  and  I  trust  that  you  will 
be  able  to  help  him."  He  stood  aside  to  allow  them 
to  enter  the  room.  "If  you  will  sit  down,  sir,  I  will 
see  if  Miss  Trent  is  in  the  garden." 

He  closed  the  doors  and  stepped  through  one  of 
the  long  windows  on  to  the  terrace. 

The  salon  was  a  large  room  with  an  indifferently 
painted  ceiling  which  did  not  seem  to  be  in  keeping 
with  the  excellent  reproductions  of  Louis  XIV 
chairs  and  settees  and  cabinets.  Bowls  and  vases 
of  flowers  were  everywhere,  and  in  the  fireplace 
there  were  massed  a  dozen  or  more  brilliantly 
coloured  cinerarias  in  pots.  In  addition  to  the  doors 
by  which  they  had  entered  the  room  there  were 
glazed  doors  at  each  end,  leading  on  one  side  to  the 
dining-room,  and  to  the  library  on  the  other.  A 


68  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

heavy  curtain  was  drawn  across  the  latter  doors. 
After  a  few  minutes  the  butler  appeared  at  the 
window. 

"Will  you  come  this  way,  please?"  he  said. 

Martin  Crow  and  Gerry  followed  the  man  along 
the  terrace  and  down  a  winding  path  between  mimosa 
trees  and  oleander  bushes  to  another  terrace  shaded 
by  orange  trees  which  were  heavily  laden  with  their 
golden  fruit.  A  low  balustrade  ran  the  whole  length 
of  the  terrace  and  was  entwined  with  the  trailing 
branches  of  several  wistarias.  At  the  far  end  two 
people,  a  young  woman  and  a  young  man,  were 
sitting  beneath  an  old  and  gnarled  olive  tree.  The 
former  got  up  as  Crow  and  Gerry  approached,  and 
advanced  a  few  paces  to  meet  them.  She  was  a 
strange  looking  little  person,  little  more  than  five  feet 
in  height,  small  limbed  and  round  shouldered;  she 
moved  awkwardly  and  appeared  to  be  intensely 
nervous.  In  spite  of  large  and  beautiful  eyes  she 
was  undeniably  plain. 

"Good  morning,  Miss  Trent,"  Martin  Crow  said 
as  he  raised  his  hat.  "  I  am  a  friend  of  your  cousin, 
Mr.  Michael  Maguire.  M.  Peille,  the  Commissaire 
at  Nice,  who  is  meeting  me  here  this  morning, 
suggested  that  I  should  come  and  have  a  little  talk 
with  you.  This  is  my  daughter,  Miss  Crow." 

Coral  Trent  stared  sullenly  at  Gerry  for  a  moment 
and  then  thrust  out  her  hand  stiffly. 

"I  really  don't  know  what  I  can  tell  you,"  she 
said,  speaking  with  a  slight  colonial  accent,  and 


THE     VILLA     GLORIA  69 

fixing  her  large,  dark  eyes  upon  some  distant  object. 
"Won't  you  come  and  sit  down?"  She  led  the  way 
along  the  terrace  where  the  warm  air  was  heavy  with 
the  perfume  of  the  wistaria  and  the  mimosa.  "This 
is  Mr.  Berwick,  a  great  friend  of  my  poor  aunt.  Alan, 
this  is  Mr.  Martin  Crow  and  Miss  Crow." 

The  young  man  stood  up  and  bowed  languidly. 
He  was  tall,  handsome  in  an  effeminate  way,  and 
was  dressed  with  exaggerated  care.  His  speech,  like 
his  movements,  was  slow,  as  if  he  were  too  tired  to 
talk  more  quickly. 

"  Rotten  business  this,  isn't  it?"  he  drawled  as  they 
all  sat  down  on  the  wicker  arm  chairs  which  were 
arranged  in  a  semi-circle  round  a  small  garden  table. 
He  took  a  gold  cigarette  case  from  his  hip  pocket 
and  handed  it  round.  Only  Coral  accepted  a  cigarette. 

"It  is  most  unfortunate  and  very  sad,"  Martin 
Crow  said,  addressing  his  remark  to  Coral  Trent. 
"I  offer  you  my  sincere  sympathies.  It  must  have 
been  a  terrible  shock  to  you." 

"Yes,  it  was  a  terrible  shock,"  the  girl  replied. 
Her  eyes  were  now  fixed  upon  a  small  green  lizard 
which  was  sunning  itself  on  the  top  of  the  balustrade, 
a  few  feet  away.  "I  should  never  have  thought  that 
Michael  Maguire  would  have  been  capable  of  doing 
such  a  thing." 

"You  really  think  that  he  did  do  it,  Miss  Trent?" 
Gerry  asked. 

For  a  moment  Coral  looked  straight  at  her  ques- 
tioner and  then  turned  her  eyes  quickly  away. 


70  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Can  there  be  any  doubt?"  she  asked.  Her  voice 
was  hard,  and  made  Gerry  shudder. 

"I  think  that  there  is  very  grave  doubt,"  said 
Crow,  speaking  slowly  and  deliberately,  "and  I 
shall  not  rest  until  I  have  proved  conclusively  that 
he  is  either  innocent  or  guilty." 

"I  say,  are  you  a  detective?"  asked  the  young 
man,  bluntly. 

Crow  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  without 
speaking. 

"I  am  Michael  Maguire's  friend,"  he  replied  at 
length;  then  he  turned  sharply  to  Coral.  "I  under- 
stand, Miss  Trent,  that  your  aunt  wished  you  to 
marry  your  cousin?" 

A  second's  hesitation,  then, 

"Yes,  she  did." 

As  she  replied  she  again  permitted  herself  to  look 
straight  at  her  interrogator,  then  she  turned  her 
gaze  back  to  the  lizard  which  had  come  down  the 
side  of  the  balustrade.  During  the  brief  moment 
when  their  eyes  met  Crow  fancied  that  he  saw 
fear  in  hers. 

"Was  it  your  wish  that  you  and  he  should  marry?" 
he  asked. 

"Oh  no." 

"Then  why  did  your  aunt  wish  it?" 

Coral  did  not  reply.  She  had  turned  her  attention 
to  a  train  which  was  going  round  the  sharp  curve 
towards  the  station  of  Cap-Martin-Roquebrune. 

"Just  some  odd  fancy  on  the  part  of  Miss  Maguire, 


THE     VILLA     GLORIA  71 

I  imagine,"  Alan  Berwick  volunteered.  "She  was 
full  of  queer  ideas  which  nobody  could  under- 
stand." 

"You  knew  her  intimately?"  Crow  asked.  There 
was  a  perceptible  pause  before  the  young  man 
replied. 

"Oh,  rather.  Known  her  ever  since  I  was  a  kid," 
he  said.  "She  and  my  mater  are  neighbours  in 
England." 

"Would  you  describe  her  as  a  normal  woman?" 

Alan  closed  his  eyes  and  puffed  at  his  cigarette  as 
he  considered  the  question. 

"That  isn't  exactly  an  easy  question  to  answer, 
Mr.  Crow,"  he  replied  at  last.  "This  business  of 
her  wanting  her  nephew  and  niece  to  marry  doesn't 
strike  one  as  being  exactly  normal  because  there 
didn't  seem  to  be  any  sense  in  it.  But  Miss  Maguire 
was  a  woman  who  got  an  idea  into  her  head  and  there 
it  stuck,  and  no  amount  of  arguing  would  shift  it; 
in  fact  any  opposition  seemed  to  make  her  all  the 
more  determined.  She  always  went  off  the  deep 
end  if  anyone  opposed  her." 

"Did  you  always  get  on  well  with  her,  Mr. 
Berwick?" 

Alan  gave  Crow  a  suspicious  glance. 

"Oh  rather.  Like  a  house  on  fire,"  he  said  with 
a  meaningless  laugh  as  he  threw  away  his  cigarette 
end  and  dived  into  his  pocket  for  his  case. 

"As  he  told  you  just  now,  Mr.  Berwick  has  known 
my  aunt  ever  since  he  was  a  child,"  Coral  put  in. 


72  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"And  when  did  you  first  know  that  she  wanted 
you  to  marry  your  cousin?"  Crow  asked. 

"About  ten  days  ago." 

"Did  she  tell  you  or  did  you  find  out?" 

"She  told  me." 

"What  did  she  say?" 

"She  said  that  she  had  decided  that  he  and  I 
should  marry  and  that  I  was  to  go  over  to  the 
British  Consulate  at  Nice  with  her  and  give  notice 
to  the  Consul.  And  she  said  that  Michael  would 
be  coming  down  very  shortly." 

"Were  you  surprised,  Miss  Trent?" 

"Very  surprised." 

"What  reply  did  you  make?" 

"I  think  I  said  'Oh  yes,'  or  something  like  that." 

"But  were  you  prepared  to  marry  him?"  asked 
Crow  with  marked  surprise  in  his  tone.  There  was 
a  long  silence.  They  were  all  looking  at  Coral  expect- 
antly. She  was  watching  the  train  which  had  left 
the  station  and  was  winding  its  way  along  the  twisting 
stretch  of  line  towards  Monte  Carlo.  It  was  Alan 
Berwick  who  broke  the  silence. 

"I  don't  think  you  ever  thought  that  there  was 
any  possibility  of  the  marriage  coming  off,  did  you?" 
he  asked. 

"No,  I  suppose  I  didn't,"  the  girl  answered  after 
another  pause.  "I  knew  that  he  wanted  to  marry 
Miss  Beamish." 

"Can  you  tell  me  why  Miss  Maguire  suddenly 
changed  her  attitude  towards  Miss  Beamish  ? " 


THE     VILLA     GLORIA  73 

"No,  I  cannot  tell  you." 

"I  understand  that  your  aunt  was  very  devoted 
to  you?" 

"Yes,  I  suppose  she  was." 

"And  were  you  fond  of  her,  Miss  Trent?" 

"She  was  very  good  to  me." 

"You  have  only  been  living  with  her  for  a  com- 
paratively short  time?" 

"A  little  more  than  a  year." 

"Had  you  seen  much  of  her  before  that?" 

"I  had  never  seen  her  until  she  came  out  to 

Australia  in "  Coral  hesitated  and  appeared 

to  be  making  a  mental  calculation.  "I  suppose  it 
was  in  1927." 

"What  did  she  go  to  Australia  for?" 

"To  visit  us.  My  mother  and  she  were  sisters. 
My  father  was  alive  then  and  we  had  a  big  sheep 
farm  about  five  hundred  miles  from  Sydney." 

"And  she  stayed  with  you?"  Crow  asked. 

"Yes,  for  about  two  months." 

"And  then  returned  to  England?" 

"Not  immediately.  She  travelled  about  for 
several  weeks." 

"Did  you  see  her  again  after  she  left  you?" 

"No." 

"And  what  made  you  come  and  live  with  her?" 

Another  pause,  and  again  the  young  man  supplied 
the  information. 

"Miss  Trent's  mother  died  suddenly." 

"Now  let  us  assume,  Miss  Trent,  that  your  cousin 


74  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  your  aunt's  death, 
is  there  anyone  whom  you  suspect,  even  in  the 
smallest  degree,  of  having  any  reason  to  wish  for  her 
death?" 

"There  is  no  one  that  I  can  think  of,"  Coral 
replied. 

"And  you,  Mr.  Berwick,  is  there  anyone  you  can 
suggest  who  might  have  thought  that  he,  or  she, 
would  benefit  by  Miss  Maguire's  death?" 

The  young  man  shook  his  head  several  times 
before  he  answered. 

"I  can't  think  of  anyone,"  he  said. 

"Did  she  know  many  people  here?" 

"She  has  made  no  friends  in  Roquebrune,"  said 
Coral. 

"Has  Mr.  Berwick  been  the  only  visitor  to  the 
villa?" 

Crow  noticed  that  the  girl  and  Alan  exchanged 
glances  before  the  latter  replied; 

"Yes,  I  suppose  I  was,"  he  said. 

"And  I  understand,  Miss  Trent,  that  you  and  your 
cousin  were  Miss  Maguire's  only  relatives?" 

"That  is  what  she  always  told  me,"  Coral  replied. 

"She "  The  girl  broke  off  as  she  saw  the  butler 

coming  along  the  terrace  followed  by  M.  Peille  who 
was  mopping  his  bald  head  with  a  large,  coloured 
handkerchief. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE   LIBRARY 

Commissaire  bowed  and  shook  hands  with 
A  Coral  Trent,  who  introduced  him  awkwardly 
to  Alan  Berwick.  After  making  a  few  remarks  about 
the  "enchanting  garden,"  the  "superb  view,"  and 
the  "magnificent  weather,"  he  asked  Martin  Crow 
if  he  would  like  to  inspect  the  library. 

"And  who  is  the  young  friend  of  Mademoiselle?" 
he  asked  as  they  walked  up  to  the  villa. 

"He  was  presented  to  us  as  an  old  friend  of  Mile. 
Maguire,"  Crow  told  him. 

The  Frenchman  smiled.  "Ah,  perhaps  we  have 
a  little  romance  there,  no?"  he  asked. 

"I  think  we  will  hear  what  my  daughter  has  to 
say  on  that  point,  M.  Peille.  She  has  a  remarkable 
capacity  for  sensing  things;  in  fact  I  find  myself 
relying  more  and  more  upon  her  judgment.  Well, 
Gerry,  what  is  your  opinion?" 

"I  should  say  that  she  is  rather  attracted  by  him," 
answered  the  girl  in  French,  "but  I  very  much  doubt 
if  her  feelings  are  reciprocated." 

"Apparently  he  does  not  mind  spending  a  lovely 
morning  in  her  company  when  he  might  be  sunning 

75 


76  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

himself  on  the  Casino  terraces,  or  watching  the  tennis 
at  the  Country  Club,"  replied  Crow. 

"You  seem  to  forget  that  she  is  an  heiress." 

M.  Peille  laughed. 

"Ah,  Mademoiselle  is  shrewd,"  he  exclaimed  as 
they  entered  the  hall  of  the  villa.  "Eh  bien,  it  is  of 
no  consequence  to  us."  He  knocked  upon  the  door 
immediately  on  the  right  of  the  entrance  and  after 
a  couple  of  seconds  it  was  thrown  open  by  a  gendarme. 
"We  shall  be  in  here  for  some  time,"  the  Com- 
missaire  told  the  man.  "You  can  wait  in  the 
vestibule." 

"Bien,  Monsieur." 

"This,"  said  M.  Peille  with  a  sweep  of  his  hand 
as  they  entered  the  room,  "is  the  library  where  the 
crime  was  committed." 

It  was  a  large,  luxuriously  furnished  room. 
Immediately  opposite  the  door  there  were  two  long 
windows  which  opened  on  to  the  terrace.  Through 
these  could  be  seen  the  rose  entwined  pergola 
columns  and  the  wide  sweep  of  the  bay  beyond,  with 
Monte  Carlo  cowering  beneath  the  huge  mass  of  the 
Tete  du  Chien  in  the  distance.  To  the  left  were  the 
glass  doors  which  gave  direct  access  to  the  salon; 
and  to  the  right  was  the  fireplace  surmounted  by  a 
large  overmantel.  In  the  centre  of  the  room  was  a 
large  writing-table  with  high-backed  arm  chairs 
on  either  side  of  it,  one  facing  the  door,  the  other 
facing  the  windows.  A  little  to  the  right  of  the  latter 
chair  there  was  a  large  standard  electric  lamp. 


THELIBRARY  77 

A  single  silver  candlestick  stood  on  the  left  side  of 
the  writing-table  which  was  of  mahogany  and  richly 
inlaid  with  brass. 

Martin  Crow  paused  by  the  door  and  allowed  his 
eyes  to  wander  slowly  round  the  room.  After 
a  few  moments  they  came  to  rest  for  a  few  seconds 
upon  a  mass  of  charred  paper  which  was  scattered 
over  the  hearth,  then  they  moved  on  to  the  tall 
bookcases  filled  with  elegantly  bound  volumes, 
to  the  windows  which  were  hung  with  heavy  curtains, 
and  then  to  the  safe  which  stood  on  a  small  stand 
in  a  corner  of  the  room,  on  the  left  of  the  door. 

"Mile.  Maguire  was  found  sitting  in  that  chair, 
facing  the  windows,"  M.  Peille  explained  as  he 
stepped  up  to  the  writing-table,  "and  the  accused 
was  standing  at  her  left  side  when  Boughton  entered 
the  room.  The  candlestick  with  which  the  blow  was 
struck,  was  lying  on  the  floor  a  few  centimetres  from 
his  left  foot.  Over  there  you  will  see  all  that  remains 
of  Mademoiselle's  testamentary  documents,  and  there, 
on  your  left  is  the  safe  from  which,  according  to  the 
accused,  they  were  taken  by  Mademoiselle  herself." 

"How  was  she  sitting  in  the  chair?"  Crow  asked. 

M.  Peille  took  a  large  envelope  from  his  overcoat 
pocket  and  from  it  he  extracted  three  enlarged 
photographs. 

"These  were  taken  during  the  night  of  the  murder, 
by  flashlight,"  he  said.  "One  from  the  front  and  one 
from  each  side.  They  show  exactly  how  the  unfortun- 
ate woman  was  found." 


78  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

Martin  Crow  took  the  photographs  and  examined 
them  closely  by  the  window.  They  depicted  a  tall, 
slim,  hard-featured  woman  of  about  sixty,  leaning 
back  in  the  chair  with  her  head  thrown  forward 
upon  her  chest  and  tilted  a  little  towards  the  left 
shoulder.  She  was  sitting  square  with  the  edge  of 
the  writing-table  and  her  hands  had  fallen  over  the 
arms  of  the  chair.  On  the  right  temple  there  was  a 
wound  from  which,  it  could  be  clearly  seen,  the  blood 
had  flowed  freely  down  the  side  of  her  face  and  on 
to  the  bodice  of  her  dress. 

"I  fear  they  do  not  tell  us  very  much,"  remarked 
the  Commissaire  as  Crow  went  back  to  the  table  and 
stood  for  a  few  seconds  in  each  of  the  three  positions 
which  the  camera  must  have  occupied.  "I  always 
make  a  point  of  photographing  the  body  as  soon  as 
possible,  especially  when  I  have  good  reason  for 
supposing  that  it  has  not  been  moved." 

"You  do  not  think  it  was  moved  in  this  case?" 
asked  Crow,  looking  up. 

"We  have  the  assurance  of  both  the  accused  and 
Boughton  that  the  body  was  not  moved.  The 
former,  as  you  know,  said  that  he  put  his  ringers 
on  the  wrist  and  felt  for  the  pulse,  but  he  was 
emphatic  that  the  position  had  not  been  altered; 
and  I  think  that  he  was  speaking  the  truth.  The 
position  of  the  body  is,  exactly,  as  I  should  have 
expected  to  find  it  under  the  circumstances." 

"There  is  no  question  of  the  Brigadier,  or  any  of 
his  men  having  moved  it?" 


THELIBRARY  79 

"Of  that  I  am  certain,  Monsieur.  You  consider 
the  point  of  importance?" 

"Of  the  greatest  importance,  M.  Peille.  I  wonder 
if  you  could  let  me  have  copies  of  these  photo- 
graphs?" 

"Most  certainly.  You  may  keep  those.  I  have 
two  other  sets  in  my  bureau.  They  interest  you?" 

"Yes,  they  confirm  a  theory  which  I  formed  yester- 
day after  I  had  viewed  the  body." 

"May  I  ask  what  your  theory  is,  M.  Crow?" 

"For  the  moment,  M.  Peille,  I  would  prefer  not 
to  answer  that  question  because  I  may  be  entirely 
wrong.  To-morrow,  perhaps,  I  shall  have  something 
definite  to  tell  you." 

"But  of  course,  it  is  as  you  wish,"  replied  the 
Commissaire,  with  a  touch  of  disappointment  in 
his  tone.  "You  observe  that  there  is  only  one  candle- 
stick on  the  table.  We  have  the  other,  which  is 
identical,  at  the  Commissariat.  We  have  photo- 
graphed that  also." 

"Ah!  I  should  very  much  like  to  see  those 
photographs." 

"Assuredly.  Any  time  that  you  may  call  at  my 
office  I  shall  be  most  happy  to  show  them  to  you.  I 
meant  to  have  brought  them  with  me,  but  I  departed 
in  such  a  hurry  that  I  forgot  them." 

Martin  Crow  bent  down  and  examined  the  polished 
surface  of  the  table  with  his  magnifying  glass. 

"I  see  that  there  are  several  finger-prints  here," 
he  observed. 


80  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Yes,  and  we  found  others  on  the  back  of  the  chair 
in  which  Mademoiselle  was  sitting.  They  were  all 
made  by  the  accused,  as  the  photographs  conclusively 
prove." 

"Did  you  find  any  others  anywhere  else  in  the 
room?" 

"Only  on  the  candlestick." 

"And  the  safe,  M.  Peille,  did  that  disclose  anything 
of  interest?" 

"A  few  private  letters  written  to  Mademoiselle; 
her  cheque-book,  her  bank  pass-book;  and  a  few 
letters  and  documents  relating  to  her  investments 
and  property  in  England.  Would  it  interest  you  to 
look  through  them?" 

"Yes,  it  would,"  replied  Crow. 

The  Commissaire  went  across  to  the  safe  and 
Martin  Crow  joined  his  daughter  who  was  examining 
the  fastening  of  one  of  the  windows. 

"What  is  interesting  you,  my  dear?"  he  asked. 

Gerry  looked  up  and  smiled. 

"Nothing  special,"  she  told  him.  "I  was  just 
looking  to  see  how  these  worked.  They  seem  to  be 
quite  ordinary.  I'll  prowl  round  while  you  amuse 
yourself  going  through  those  papers." 

"Very  well.  I  don't  suppose  I  shall  be  very  long, 
then  we'll  look  at  the  rooms  upstairs,"  Crow  said  as 
he  went  back  to  the  writing-table  where  the  Com- 
missaire was  arranging  the  contents  of  the  safe. 

"These,"  M.  Peille  said,  indicating  a  neat  little 
bundle  of  papers  which  were  held  together  by  an 


THE     LIBRARY  8l 

elastic  band,  "all  relate  to  Mile.  Maguire's  invest- 
ments." He  handed  them  to  Crow  who  glanced 
at  each  one  separately  and  then  laid  them  aside 
without  making  any  comment.  "Now  here,"  went 
on  the  Commissaire,  "is  a  letter  addressed  to 
Mademoiselle  by  her  defunct  sister.  It  does  not 
appear  to  be  of  any  particular  interest." 

Crow  took  the  letter  and  read  it.  It  had  been 
written  eighteen  months  previously  at  a  time  when 
Coral's  mother  appeared  to  have  known  that  she 
was  about  to  die.  She  begged  her  sister  to  look  after 
Coral  who,  she  said,  would  be  left  with  only 
sufficient  money  to  provide  the  barest  necessities. 
She  said  that  her  husband  had  met  with  a  long  run 
of  bad  luck  and  had  died  leaving  her — Mrs.  Trent — 
with  a  small  annuity  which  would  cease  at  her  death. 
Mrs.  Trent  anxiously  suggested  that  Miss  Maguire 
should  have  the  parentless  Coral  to  live  with  her 
and  pointed  out  that  the  girl  could  fulfil  the  duties 
of  secretary-companion. 

"And  this  is  Mademoiselle's  cheque-book,"  M. 
Peille  said  as  soon  as  Crow  had  finished  reading  the 
letter.  "You  will  see  by  the  last  counterfoil  that  she 
drew  a  cheque  for  six  thousand  francs  on  Tuesday 
last,  the  day  that  she  met  her  death.  As  I  told  you 
yesterday,  Mile.  Trent  informed  us  that  her  aunt 
changed  one  of  the  mille  notes  while  she  was  shopping 
in  Monte  Carlo  on  Tuesday  morning.  We  have 
searched  this  room,  Mile.  Maguire's  bedroom, 
in  fact  the  whole  villa  has  been  searched  and  we 


82  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

found  no  money  except  a  few  odd  notes  of  ten  and 
one  hundred  francs,  apart  from  the  five  mille  in  the 
valise  of  the  accused,  of  course.  This  morning  I 
interviewed  the  bank  manager  at  Monte  Carlo, 
and  with  the  assistance  of  the  cashier  we  discovered 
that  those  five  notes  had  certainly  been  paid  out 
on  Tuesday  morning.  We  could  not  prove  that  those 
actual  ones  had  been  handed  to  Mile.  Maguire, 
but  I  think  that  you  will  agree  that  it  would  be  a 
remarkable  fact  if  they  had  been  paid  to  anyone 
else.  You  question  that,  M.  Crow?" 

"Not  at  all,  M.  Peille,  but  to  tell  you  the  truth  I 
am  not  greatly  interested  in  the  point.  I  do  not 
think  that  it  is  of  much  importance." 

"But  if  those  actual  notes  were  handed  to  Mile. 
Maguire  it  is  very  strong  evidence  against  the 
accused." 

"Well,  you  may  be  right,"  admitted  Crow, 
somewhat  disinterestedly.  "Ah!  Is  this  the  pass- 
book?" Crow  sat  down  and  gave  it  his  careful 
attention  for  several  minutes  while  the  Commissaire 
returned  the  papers  which  they  had  already  examined 
to  the  safe. 

"You  find  something  of  importance?"  he  asked  as 
he  observed  Crow  making  notes  in  his  pocket-book. 

"I  cannot  say  at  the  moment,  but  it  may  be 
quite  important.  I " 

"Father,  could  you  spare  a  moment  to  look  at 
something  over  here?"  Gerry  called  out.  She  had 
gone  on  to  the  terrace  and  was  examining  something 


THE     LIBRARY  83 

on  the  extreme  edge  of  one  of  the  windows.  Crow 
got  up  and  went  out  to  her.  "I  wonder  if  M.  Peille 
has  seen  that?"  she  said,  indicating  a  faint  finger- 
print on  the  glass. 

Crow  knelt  down  and  scrutinised  it  closely. 
After  a  few  moments  he  called  to  the  Commissaire 
who  came  out  and  looked  a  little  disconcerted  when  he 
was  shown  the  mark. 

"No,  I  admit  that  it  escaped  our  notice,"  he  said. 
"  It  is  probably  of  no  consequence,  but  I  will  telephone 
to  Menton  at  once  for  the  photographer  to  come  and 
take  it.  You  excuse  me  a  little  minute?" 

M.  Peille  went  into  the  hall. 

"Have  you  come  across  anything  important, 
Father?"  Gerry  asked. 

"I'm  not  quite  sure,  my  dear.  Perhaps  I  have. 
I  am  going  to  have  a  look  at  that  charred  paper  in 
there,"  he  said  as  he  went  into  the  room.  He  knelt 
down  in  front  of  the  fireplace  and,  with  the  greatest 
care  turned  the  black  flakes  over  with  the  point  of 
a  pencil.  He  lifted  some  of  them  and  laid  them  on 
the  palm  of  his  hand  but  they  were  broken  too  small 
for  any  writing  to  be  discernible,  even  with  the  aid  of 
his  magnifying  glass.  All  that  he  could  tell  was  that 
the  paper  had  probably  been  heavy,  of  the  type  that 
lawyers  use  for  engrossing  documents.  Presently 
M.  Peille  returned. 

"Ah!"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  saw  what  Crow  was 
doing.  "I  fear  that  you  will  not  learn  much  from 
that." 


84  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"No,  I'm  afraid  not.  May  we  trouble  you  to  let 
us  see  the  upstair  rooms?" 

"By  all  means." 

They  went  upstairs  and  Martin  Crow  made  a 
rough  sketch  in  his  note-book  showing  the  position 
of  the  principal  rooms.  Miss  Maguire  had  occupied 
the  one  immediately  over  the  library;  Coral's  was 
next  door,  opposite  the  top  of  the  stairs;  Michael 
had  had  the  room  at  the  end  of  the  corridor,  next 
to  his  cousin's  and  opposite  Boughton's.  There 
was  another  guest  room  and  two  other  servant's 
rooms,  but  these  did  not  greatly  interest  Crow, 
who  presently  thanked  M.  Peille  and  said  that  he 
would  not  detain  him  any  longer. 

"You  have  seen  anything  which  may  help  you?" 
the  Commissaire  asked  as  they  went  downstairs. 

"  A  good  deal,  M.  Peille." 

"And  you  have  arrived  at  any  conclusions?" 

"I  am  more  than  ever  convinced  that  Michael 
Maguire  did  not  kill  his  aunt,"  Crow  replied. 

"And  yet  you  will  admit  that  the  evidence  against 
him  is  strong?" 

"Strong,  but  far  from  conclusive,  M.  Peille." 

"He  was  in  an  unfortunate  position,"  persisted 
the  Commissaire.  "He  had  everything  to  gain  by 
his  aunt's  death  and  everything  to  lose  if  she  lived. 
In  fact  his  position  was  desperate." 

"That  is  correct,"  Crow  admitted,  "but  it  is  not 
proof,  M.  Peille,  and  I  demand  proof." 


CHAPTER   IX 

THEORIES 

S  Martin  Crow  and  Gerry  went  out  of  the  front 
door  they  were  met  by  Coral  Trent. 

"  I  was  hoping  that  I  should  catch  you  before  you 
left,"  she  said  with  a  little  less  restraint  and  nervous- 
ness than  she  had  displayed  when  they  had  been 
talking  in  the  garden.  "Can  you  tell  me  what  is 
going  to  happen  here,  Mr.  Crow?" 

"In  what  way,  Miss  Trent?" 

"To  me,  the  villa,  and  the  servants,"  she  replied, 
shortly. 

"The  British  Consul  at  Nice  has  communicated 
with  you  raunt's  lawyers  in  London,"  Crow  told  her, 
"and  I  am  afraid  you  will  have  to  wait  until  he  arrives 
before  you  can  know  what  your  position  is  going  to  be." 

"I  see."  Coral  was  silent  for  half  a  minute  during 
which  time  she  stood  gazing  up  at  the  campanile  of 
the  village  church,  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  up  the 
mountainside.  The  angelus  was  being  rung.  "M. 
Peille  said  something  about  my  aunt's  will  having 
been  destroyed,"  she  added. 

"Yes,  it  appears  that  someone  destroyed  it  on  the 
evening  of  the  .  .  .  when  the  crime  was  com- 
mitted." 

85 


86  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Aunt  Jennifer  told  me  several  times  that  she 
was  leaving  this  villa  and  half  her  fortune  to  me," 
the  girl  said. 

"Yes,  I  believe  she  told  your  cousin  the  same," 
replied  Crow. 

"Then  won't  I  get  it  now  that  the  will  has  been 
burnt?" 

"  That  is  a  question  which  I  cannot  possibly  answer; 
and  to  be  perfectly  candid,  Miss  Trent,"  Crow 
went  on  in  a  sharper  tone,  "it  is  a  question  which 
does  not  concern  me  at  all.  For  the  moment  I  am 
only  interested  in  proving  that  your  cousin  did  not 
kill  your  aunt." 

"You  do  not  think  he  did  it?" 

"No,  I  am  certain  he  did  not.  And  now,  Miss 
Trent,  we  will  wish  you  good  morning." 

They  left  Coral  standing  in  the  doorway,  a  strange 
little  figure,  somehow  pathetic  in  spite  of  her  seeming 
callousness,  and  unconcern  except  so  far  as  the 
situation  affected  herself.  Martin  Crow  walked  up 
the  steps  to  the  road  in  silence  and  Gerry  refrained 
from  asking  him  any  questions.  As  they  turned  out 
of  the  gate  they  came  face  to  face  with  Alan 
Berwick  who  appeared  to  be  surprised  at  meeting 
them. 

"Oh,  I  thought  you'd  pushed  off  long  ago,"  he 
said  amiably.  "Going  down  the  hill?"  he  asked. 

"We  are  returning  to  the  Pension  Mireille,"  said 
Crow,  who  was  convinced  that  he  had  been  waiting 
about  in  the  road  for  them  to  come  out  of  the  villa. 


THEORIES  87 

"I'm  going  that  way  too.  Well,  did  you  have  any 
luck  in  there?" 

"Luck?" 

"Make  any  discoveries,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing?" 

"  I  made  several  discoveries  which  interested  me 
greatly,"  Crow  answered,  giving  the  young  man  a 
sideways  glance.  "But  it  remains  to  be  seen  whether 
they  will  prove  helpful.  You  are  staying  in  Roque- 
brune,  Mr.  Berwick?" 

"Yes,  rather;  at  the  Pension  des  Bambous.  You 
know,  just  beyond  your  place,  on  the  bend  of  the 
road.  I've  been  rather  seedy  lately  and  the  doctor 
turned  me  out  of  England  for  the  winter  and  sent 
me  down  here  for  a  rest  and  a  bit  of  sunshine. 
Topping  spot,  don't  you  think?" 

"You  are  fortunate  to  be  able  to  take  a  holiday," 
Crow  said,  ignoring  the  question. 

"Yes.  I  suppose  I  am  really.  Luckily  it  isn't 
an  absolute  necessity  for  me  to  keep  my  nose  to 
the  grindstone,  but  this  sort  of  thing,  of  course, 
makes  a  bit  of  a  mess  of  one's  career.  I  say,  you'll 
excuse  my  asking,  won't  you,  but  are  you  the  Martin 
Crow,  K.C.,  by  any  chance?" 

"I  am." 

"By  Jove,  that's  great!  I've  heard  of  you  scores 
of  times,  of  course.  I'm  a  barrister,  but  I  haven't 
really  had  a  chance  to  get  going  properly,  what  with 
this  rotten  old  chest  of  mine,  and  one  thing 
and  another." 

"You  have  been  staying  here  for  some  time?" 


88  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Practically  all  the  winter." 

"Then  I  suppose  you  have  been  seeing  a  good  deal 
of  Miss  Maguire  and  Miss  Trent?" 

There  was  a  slight  hesitation  before  the  young 
man  answered. 

"Oh  yes,  I've  been  in  and  out  of  the  villa  all  the 
time,  you  know." 

"Tell  me,  Mr.  Berwick,  what  do  you  really  think 
about  this  case?  Have  you  ever  met  Michael 
Maguire?" 

"Two  or  three  times  in  England.  I  think  I  told 
you  that  his  aunt  was  a  neighbour  of  my  mother's. 
I  saw  him  now  and  again  when  he  went  to 
Merryfields  for  week-ends." 

"And  do  you  think  that  he  killed  his  aunt?" 

Alan  Berwick  was  lighting  a  cigarette  and  did  not 
answer  for  several  moments. 

"Well,  that's  a  bit  of  a  poser,  Mr.  Crow,"  he  said 
at  length.  "From  what  I  hear  he  seems  to  have  been 
a  pretty  hot  tempered  sort  of  fellow,  and  I  understand 
that  Miss  Maguire  was  trying  to  force  him  into  a 
marriage  against  his  will,  but  I  don't  know  if  that  is 
sufficient  evidence  on  which  to  condemn  him.  What 
do  you  think?" 

"It  is  not,  Mr.  Berwick.  And  have  you  known 
Miss  Trent  for  some  time?" 

"Only  since  last  summer  when  she  and  Miss 
Maguire  returned  from  the  Continent  and  spent 
a  few  weeks  at  Merryfields." 

"You  saw  a  good  deal  of  her  in  England?" 


THEORIES  89 

"Oh  yes,  quite  a  lot." 

"And  it  is  your  wish  to  marry  her?"  asked  Crow 
in  a  casual  tone.  The  question  appeared  to  sur- 
prise the  young  man,  who  stood  still  and  looked 
perplexed. 

"Good  Lord!  Whatever  made  you  think  that  I 
wanted  to  marry  her?"  he  asked,  with  an  awkward 
laugh. 

"I  apologise  if  I  have  given  offence  in  any  way, 
but  I  thought " 

"You  haven't  offended  me,"  Berwick  said  genially, 
as  he  fell  into  step  again,  "it  just  struck  me  as  being 
deuced  odd  that  you  should  have  thought  that  I 
wanted  to.  No,  sir,  Miss  Trent  is  a  very  decent 
sort,  and  all  that,  but  she's  hardly  my  type,  you 
know." 

"Did  she  get  on  with  Miss  Maguire?" 

"Oh,  I  suppose  she  did  in  a  way,  but  the  old  girl 
must  have  been  the  very  devil  to  live  with." 

"In  what  way?" 

"Well,  she  was  full  of  cranky  ideas  and  used  to 
get  terribly  rattled  if  anyone  opposed  her." 

"Was  that  your  own  experience  of  her?" 

"No.  I  always  took  jolly  good  care  to  agree  with 
what  she  said.  I  don't  see  the  object  of  getting  the 
wrong  side  of  people  if  you  can  keep  on  the  right 
side.  Do  you?" 

"No,  I  suppose  you  are  right."  They  had  reached 
the  point  where  the  path  to  the  station  led  away 
from  the  road  by  the  side  of  the  electrician's  shop. 


90  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"We  will  leave  you  here,"  Crow  said.  "No  doubt 
we  shall  meet  again." 

"Rather.  Give  me  a  ring,  Mr.  Crow,  if  you  think 
I  can  help  you  in  any  way.  Pension  des  Bambous, 
you  know." 

Martin  Crow  thanked  him  and  then  followed  Gerry 
into  the  garden,  where  they  [found  Alison  struggling 
to  make  herself  understood  by  Mile.  Antoinette. 

"You  have  news  of  M.  Maguire?"  the  latter  asked. 

"We  have  not  seen  him  to-day." 

"But  you  have  been  up  to  the  villa?" 

Crow  laughed. 

"I  suppose  I  never  stir  but  what  I  am  watched 
by  some  curious  person,"  he  said.  "Yes,  we  have 
been  to  the  villa,  Mademoiselle,  but  I  am  afraid 
I  have  no  news." 

The  girl  went  indoors,  disappointed.  A  few 
moments  later  she  came  out  to  say  that  M.  Crow 
was  wanted  on  the  telephone.  It  was  the  British 
Consul  speaking.  He  had  just  received  a  telegram 
from  Mr.  Stephen  Chart,  Miss  Maguire's  lawyer, 
to  say  that  he  would  be  arriving  the  next  day  by 
the  Blue  Train.  After  a  short  discussion  it  was 
arranged  that  Crow  should  meet  him  at  Monte  Carlo 
— the  train  does  not  stop  at  Roquebrune — and  that 
everyone  concerned  with  the  case  should  meet  at 
the  Villa  Gloria  at  half  past  two. 

"Well,  my  dear  Alison,  and  what  luck  have  you 
had  this  morning?"  Crow  asked  as  he  joined  the  two 
girls  at  the  luncheon  table  in  the  little  arbour. 


THEORIES  QI 

"Not  very  much,  I'm  afraid,"  Alison  replied, 
rather  disappointedly.  "The  local  people,  who  seem 
to  be  mostly  Italians  speaking  a  queer  sort  of  French, 
have  practically  nothing  to  say  about  Miss  Maguire 
beyond  the  fact  that  she  was  not  what  they  call 
sympathique.  At  the  Four-and-Twenty  Blackbirds 
I  learnt  a  little  more,  but  not  a  great  deal.  Miss 
Maguire  was  in  the  habit  of  buying  all  her  cakes 
there,  and  occasionally  went  in  for  tea,  or  morning 
coffee,  with  Miss  Trent.  They  say  that  she  was  always 
very  stiff,  and  gave  them  the  impression  of  being 
a  regular  martinet.  They  talked  of  the  girl  as  always 
looking  crushed,  as  if  she  were  perpetually  afraid 
of  her  aunt." 

"Any  information  about  the  servants  at  the  villa?" 
asked  Crow. 

"No,  except  that  the  butler  sometimes  went  for 
the  cakes  which  Miss  Maguire  had  ordered  and  that 
he  struck  them  as  being  a  typical  example  of  the 
perfect,  discreet  manservant.  I'm  afraid  that  is  all, 
Mr.  Crow." 

"Well,  my  dear,  I  don't  know  that  we  have  dis- 
covered very  much  more,  but  I  am  hoping  that  we 
may  learn  something  really  helpful  from  the  lawyer 
when  he  comes  to-morrow.  I  think  you  did  admirably. 
Slight  impressions  like  that  often  prove  to  be  of  the 
greatest  importance." 

As  soon  as  they  had  finished  their  meal  Crow  said 
that  he  was  going  to  rest  for  an  hour  and  suggested 
that  the  two  girls  should  go  over  to  Menton  for  tea 


92  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

later  on.  As  they  got  up  from  the  table  he  made  a 
sign  to  Gerry  who,  after  a  few  minutes,  followed 
him  up  to  his  room. 

"I  thought  that  we  might  compare  notes  and  see 
how  we  stand,"  Crow  said  as  his  daughter  came  into 
the  room.  "Alison  doesn't  seem  to  be  too 
despondent." 

"She  has  terrific  faith  in  us,  Father.  I  don't 
know  what  she  would  have  done  if  we  hadn't  been 
here." 

"Poor  girl.  She  makes  a  brave  effort  to  appear 
cheerful  under  most  difficult  circumstances.  Well, 
my  dear,  what  are  your  impressions  after  our  visit 
to  the  villa?" 

Gerry  lighted  a  cigarette  and  remained  silent  for 
some  minutes.  She  was  standing  by  the  open  window 
watching  a  high-speed  motor-boat  as  it  approached 
the  shore  in  front  of  the  Case  del  Mare. 

"I'm  afraid  my  impressions  are  rather  muddled 
at  present,"  she  said  after  a  while.  "I  found  Miss 
Trent  hopelessly  baffling,  and  I  can't  decide  whether 
she  is  quite  undeveloped  and  childish,  or  a  good 
deal  sharper  than  she  appears  to  be." 

"Yes,  she  is  a  strange  little  creature,"  said  Crow, 
meditatively. 

"In  some  ways,"  Gerry  went  on,  "she  seems  to 
be  utterly  callous,  and  yet  I  don't  believe  that  she 
is  really  so  hard  as  she  might  lead  one  to  suppose. 
This  morning  there  were  times  when  I  thought  she 
was  a  simpleton  who  could  not  grasp  the  seriousness 


THEORIES  93 

of  the  situation;  and  there  were  moments  when  I 
thought  that  she  was  deep  and  was  trying  to  mislead 
us.  How  did  she  strike  you,  Father?" 

"She  is  not  a  simpleton,  Gerry." 

"But  was  she  concealing  something  from  us?" 

"That  is  very  probable.  And  what  did  you  make 
of  the  young  man?" 

"Oh,  he  is  of  a  different  colour  altogether," 
declared  Gerry.  "I  took  an  instant  dislike  to  him. 
He  was  far  too  affable  and  too  plausible.  As  I  said 
in  the  garden,  when  we  were  walking  up  to  the  villa 
with  M.  Peille,  I  imagine  that  she  is  very  much  in 
love  with  him,  but  I  don't  think  that  he  is  with  her." 

"You  put  him  down  as  a  fortune  hunter?" 

"Yes,  that  probably  describes  him  pretty  accur- 
ately. I  should  say  that  he  has  sufficient  means  to 
enable  him  to  scrape  along,  but  he  is  of  the  type  that 
needs  pots  and  pots  of  money.  As  for  what  he  said 
about  being  down  here  for  his  health,  and  his  feeble 
whine  about  his  career  suffering,  I  didn't  believe 
a  word  of  it.  Careers  don't  stand  for  anything  with 
the  Alan  Berwicks  of  this  world.  All  he  wants  is 
to  get  a  good  kick  out  of  life  without  having  to 
work  for  it." 

Martin  Crow  chuckled. 

"Your  language  is  certainly  expressive,  my  dear," 
he  said,  "but  aren't  we  feeling  a  little  vindictive?" 

"Perhaps  we  are.  He  got  my  back  up.  Do  you 
agree  with  me  about  him,  Father,  or  did  it  go  down 
with  you?" 


94  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"No,  my  dear,  it  did  not  go  down,  and  I  am 
inclined  to  agree  with  what  you  have  said  about 
both  of  them,  but  I  am  not  sure  that  his  undesirable 
character — as  we  imagine  it — affects  our  case  very 
much." 

"Unless  he  had  a  hand,  either  directly,  or  in- 
directly, in  Miss  Maguire's  death,"  said  Gerry, 
sharply. 

"Ah!  So  that  is  how  your  mind  is  working.  Well, 
I  admit  that  it  is  a  possibility  which  I  had  not  over- 
looked. As  for  Miss  Trent,  I  must  say  that  neither 
her  manner  nor  her  conversation  inspired  me  with 
confidence  in  her,  especially  when  we  were  coming 
away  and  she  talked  so  anxiously  about  her  aunt's 
will,  and  what  her  own  position  was  going  to  be. 
She  is  manifestly  very  little  affected  by  the  actual 
loss  of  her  aunt,  but  how  far  her  manner  is  genuine, 
and  how  much  is  pose — put  on  for  some  specific 
purpose — I  am  not  prepared  to  say.  She  is,  indeed, 
a  strange  personality  and,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
an  unattractive  one." 

"They  were  both  waiting  about  to  catch  us  as  we 
left,"  Gerry  declared. 

"Yes,  I  fancy  that  we  aroused  the  curiosity  of 
them  both  when  we  were  sitting  in  the  garden. 
Then  do  you  conclude  that  he  committed  the  crime 
and  that  she  was  an  accessory?" 

"I  think  that  both  are  possibilities  which  we 
should  consider  very  carefully." 

"And  what  do  you  suggest  as  their  motive?" 


THEORIES  95 

"Isn't  it  more  than  likely  that  she  and  Berwick 
wanted  to  marry,  in  spite  of  his  denial,  that  they  met 
with  strong  opposition  from  Miss  Maguire  and  could 
not  afford  to  defy  her?" 

"Yes,  that  is  quite  likely.  And  what  part  do  you 
think  she  may  have  played?" 

"Assuming  that  they  had  plotted  to  kill  Miss 
Maguire  I  suspect  that  she  may  have  admitted 
Berwick,  perhaps  before  dinner,  and  concealed  him 
somewhere;  possibly  in  the  salon  from  where  he 
could  have  overheard  the  quarrel  between  aunt 
and  nephew.  Then  there  is  the  possibility  that  the 
butler  might  have  assisted  them." 

"Yes,  that  has  already  occurred  to  me,"  Crow 
said.  "I  think  that  we  must  have  a  little  talk  with 
that  fellow.  I  thought  of  doing  so  this  morning,  and 
then  decided  that  I  would  wait  a  little  and  tackle 
him  casually  some  time.  I  thought  that  his  interest 
in  Michael  Maguire  sounded  rather  forced.  Didn't 
you?" 

"I  didn't  notice.  Then  if  he  and  Coral  Trent 
were  in  the  plot  either  of  them  could  have  slipped 
those  notes  into  Maguire's  suit-case." 

"Quite  easily,  I  should  imagine,"  Crow  agreed. 
"Of  course  they  could  not  have  foreseen  that  Maguire 
would  come  downstairs  with  the  suit-case,  and  leave 
it  so  conveniently  in  the  hall.  They  probably  planned 
to  stuff  the  notes  into  one  of  the  drawers  in  his  room, 
or  into  one  of  his  pockets.  Now  we  come  to  the 
destruction  of  the  wills,  and  that  seems  to  present 


96  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

a  difficulty  if  we  are  going  to  suspect  Berwick  and 
Coral  Trent.  With  the  executed  document  in 
existence  they  stood  to  get  a  large  fortune,  so  what 
object  could  they  have  had  in  burning  it?" 

Gerry  considered  the  question  for  some  moments 
before  she  answered. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  said,  presently,  "unless  they 
hoped  that  Michael  would  be  convicted  of  the 
murder  and  executed,  in  which  case  Coral,  I  suppose, 
would  inherit  the  whole  fortune." 

"A  little  too  far  fetched,  I  think,"  said  Crow, 
shaking  his  head.  "You  seem  to  have  overlooked 
the  fact  that  by  doing  that  they  would  have  been 
running  a  very  grave  and  unwarranted  risk,  the  risk 
of  Michael  getting  off  and  then  inheriting  everything 
as  his  aunt's  next-of-kin.  No,  I  cannot  see  them 
destroying  a  document  which  gave  them  any- 
thing between  £50,000  and  £100,000,  on  the  off 
chance — a  very  thin  chance — of  getting  double  that 
amount." 

"I  suppose  you  are  satisfied  that  Michael  is 
innocent?" 

"Absolutely,  my  dear.  In  my  opinion  the  burning 
of  those  wills  is  a  point  in  his  favour.  If  he  had  killed 
his  aunt  I  am  certain  that  he  would  not  have  wasted 
time  throwing  those  wills  into  the  fire  and  breaking 
up  the  charred  paper.  If  he  had  waited  to  do  anything 
he  would  surely  have  taken  steps  to  remove  any 
finger-prints  from  the  candlestick  and  furniture. 
Moreover,  I  think  he  would  have  opened  one  of  the 


THEORIES  97 

salon  windows,  when  he  went  in  there,  if  he  had  been 
guilty." 

"Wouldn't  that  argument  apply  to  anyone?" 
asked  Gerry. 

"To  some  extent,  and  therefore  I  am  convinced 
that  the  destruction  of  the  wills  was  of  enormous 
importance  to  the  murderer;  as  important  as  Miss 
Maguire's  death." 

"And  what  does  that  lead  to?" 

"The  assumption  that  the  murderer  was  some 
person  who  knew  that  he,  or  she,  would  receive 
nothing  at  all  while  the  executed  will  was  in  existence, 
but  regarded  himself  as  Miss  Maguire's  next-of-kin 
and  therefore  reckoned  on  inheriting  everything  if 
no  will  could  be  found." 

"But  Michael  and  Coral  Trent  appear  to  be  Miss 
Maguire's  only  relatives?"  Gerry  objected. 

"Yes,  so  far  as  our  information  goes  at  present," 
replied  Crow,  "but  that  is  a  point  which  we  have  got 
to  go  into  very  carefully  with  the  lawyer.  And  there 
is  something  else  that  I  want  to  ask  him.  In  Miss 
Maguire's  pass-book  I  came  across  four  entries, 
extending  over  the  last  twelve  months,  showing 
that  on  each  of  the  last  quarter  days  her  account 
in  London  has  been  debited  with  the  sum  of  £125. 
Those  four  sums  were  transferred  to  an  English 
bank  in  Nice." 

"Oh,  is  that  what  you  were  making  notes  about 
in  the  library  this  morning?" 

"Yes.    Of  course  they  may  have  been  in  respect 


98  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

of  a  pension  to  some  old  servant,  but  Miss  Maguire 
does  not  seem  to  have  been  very  generous,  and  I 
don't  think  that  she  would  make  an  allowance  of 
£500  a  year  to  anyone  of  that  kind.  It  is  just  possible 
that  the  payments  were  made  to  some  distant  relative 
of  whom  Michael  had  never  heard;  a  brother,  or 
perhaps,  another  nephew." 

"This  is  interesting,  Father." 

"It  is  decidedly  interesting,  my  dear.  I  had 
intended  going  over  to  Nice  this  afternoon  to  make 
enquiries  at  the  bank,  but  I  think  I  shall  wait  until 
we  have  had  a  talk  with  Mr.  Stephen  Chart.  More- 
over, I  have  something  rather  important  to  do 
this  afternoon." 

"What  is  that?" 

"I  am  going  to  consult  Dr.  Aristide  Journet." 

"Who  on  earth  is  he?" 

"A  noted  pathologist  who,  I  am  hoping,  may  be 
able  to  give  me  some  assistance,"  said  Crow  as  he 
got  up  and  took  his  hat  from  the  chest  of  drawers. 
"You  are  going  to  take  Alison  to  tea  at  Menton, 
aren't  you?  I  don't  suppose  I  shall  be  back  much 
before  dinner  time." 


CHAPTER  X 

DR.    ARISTIDE  JOURNET'S   OPINION 

BUT  yes,  my  dear  M.  Crow,  I  shall  be  delighted 
to  assist  you,"  Dr.  Aristide  Journet  said  over 
the  telephone  when  Martin  Crow  had  recalled  their 
meeting,  five  years  previously,  over  the  affaire 
Jehnan,  "What  is  it  that  I  can  do  for  you?" 

"I  want  you  to  examine  a  body  and  give  me  your 
valuable  opinion." 

"I  am  at  your  service." 

"I  must  make  it  clear,  Dr.  Journet,  that  I  am 
consulting  you  professionally,  in  the  strictest  sense. 
When  could  you  spare  a  couple  of  hours  to  come 
over  to  Menton?" 

"One  moment,  please  ....  I  can  be  at 
Menton  at  five  o'clock  this  evening." 

"That  is  splendid.  May  I  suggest  that  we  meet 
at  the  mortuary?  I  will  be  waiting  outside  for 
you." 

"Understood,  M.  Crow.   I  shall  be  there." 

It  was  not  yet  three  o'clock,  Martin  Crow 
walked  leisurely  along  the  old  tram  route  towards 
Cap  Martin  and  went  down  through  the  olive 
groves  which  lead  to  Carnoles,  and  from  there  made 
his  way  along  the  Promenade  to  Menton  where 

99 


100          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

he  visited  the  police  official  who  had  accompanied 
him  to  the  mortuary  on  the  previous  day. 

Punctually  at  five  Dr.  Journet,  a  dark,  spectacled 
little  man,  with  a  fussy,  effusive  manner,  drove  up 
to  the  mortuary  entrance  and  greeted  Martin  Crow 
as  if  they  were  life-long  friends. 

"Mon  Dieu!"  he  exclaimed.  "Is  it  really  five 
years  since  we  met  over  that  extraordinary  case  ?  But 
it  only  seems  like  a  few  weeks  since  the  Cote  d'Azur 
was  all  agog  over  the  disappearance  of  that  extra- 
ordinary man.  Well,  my  friend,  and  what  is  it  that 
occupies  your  attention  now;  the  affaire  of  the 
Villa  Gloria?" 

"Yes,  you  have  guessed  correctly,  Doctor,"  replied 
Crow.  "Shall  we  go  in  so  that  I  can  explain  what 
it  is  I  want  to  know?  Afterwards  I  am  going  to  ask 
you  to  be  good  enough  to  come  along  to  the  villa, 
so  we  will  not  waste  any  time." 

The  police  officer  unlocked  the  door  and  they 
passed  into  a  small,  cold  vestibule  and  then  went 
down  a  short  passage  and  into  a  large,  whitewashed 
chamber.  In  the  centre  of  this  room  the  body  of 
Miss  Jennifer  Maguire  lay  upon  a  marble  slab, 
covered  with  a  heavy  black  cloth  which  the  official 
pulled  back  so  that  it  revealed  the  head. 

"I  want  you  to  examine  that  wound,  Dr.  Journet," 
said  Crow,  "and  then  tell  me  if  you  can  form  any 
opinion  as  to  the  manner  in  which  it  was  inflicted." 

"I  understand  from  the  newspapers  that  she  was 
struck  with  a  heavy  silver  candlestick." 


DR.    JOURNET'S    OPINION  101 

"Yes,  that,  I  think  is,  unquestionably,  correct, 
but  there  are  many  different  ways  of  handling  a 
candlestick,  and  that  is  where  I  want  your  opinion." 

The  doctor  walked  round  to  the  right  side  of  the 
body  and  examined  the  wound  closely,  touching  the 
flesh  of  the  forehead  lightly  with  the  tips  of  his 
fingers.  Presently  he  stood  erect. 

"I  should  say  that  the  candlestick  was  of  fair 
size,  perhaps  thirty  centimetres  in  length,  and 
weighing  at  least  a  kilo,  with  a  round  and  rather 
flat  base,"  he  said. 

"From  what  do  you  assume  all  that,   doctor?" 

"From  the  depth  of  the  wound,  chiefly.  Am  I 
correct?" 

"I  have  neither  measured  nor  weighed  the  candle- 
stick but  I  do  not  think  that  your  figures  are  far 
out,"  Crow  replied.  "As  regards  the  base  it  is,  as 
you  say,  round  and  flat,  with  rather  a  sharp  edge. 
Now,  before  we  go  to  the  villa  I  shall  be  glad  if 
you  will  take  very  careful  note  of  the  angle  at  which 
the  blow  was  struck.  You  will  see  that  the  groove 
made  by  the  rim  of  the  candlestick  is  approximately 
parallel  to  a  line  drawn  between  the  corner  of  the 
right  eye  and  the  point  where  the  top  of  the  ear  is 
attached;  and  is  about  one  centimetre  above  that 
line." 

"Yes,  yes,  that  is  correct.  The  skull  is,  of  course, 
fractured  at  that  point." 

"As  I  suspected;  but  I  do  not  think  that  the 
fracture  itself  interests  me  very  much.  It  is  the 


102          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

direction  of  the  blow  which  may  make  all  the  differ- 
ence to  my  case." 

"I  understand,  Monsieur,  and  I  have  made  a 
careful  note  of  it." 

"Then  let  us  get  away  to  the  Villa  Gloria," 
Crow  said,  and  a  quarter  of  an  hour  later  they 
were  being  admitted  to  the  library  by  the  gendarme 
who  was  still  on  duty  and  had  received  orders  from 
the  Commissaire  to  allow  Crow  to  enter  the  room 
at  any  time. 

"It  happened  here?"  asked  Dr.  Aristide  Journet, 
as  he  glanced  round  the  room. 

"Yes,  Mile.  Maguire  was  sitting  in  that  chair, 
with  her  back  to  the  door,  and  the  blow  was  struck 
with  a  candlestick  which  forms  a  pair  with  the  one 
you  see  standing  on  the  table.  Now,  here  I  have 
three  photographs  which  were  taken  by  the  police 
two  or  three  hours  after  the  murder  was  committed, 
and  the  Commissaire  is  satisfied  that  they  show 
the  exact  position  into  which  the  body  fell  after 
the  blow  was  struck.  He  is  assured  that  the  body 
was  not  moved  by  anyone,  but  whether  that  is 
correct  I  am  not  prepared  to  say.  However,  I  shall 
be  glad  if  you  will  look  at  these  photographs,  recall 
to  mind  the  exact  shape,  size  and  position  of  the 
wound,  and  then  tell  me  if  anything  occurs  to  you." 

Dr.  Journet  studied  the  prints  carefully  for  several 
minutes. 

"No,  I  cannot  say  that  they  suggest  anything 
unusual  to  my  mind,"  he  said  at  length.  "I  assume 


DR.    JOURNET'S    OPINION  103 

from  them  that  the  murderer  was  standing  here, 
on  this  side  of  the  table,  facing  his  victim;  and  that 
the  blow  was  struck  across  the  table." 

"Exactly,  exactly!"  exclaimed  Crow  excitedly. 
He  believed  that  Dr.  Journet  was  going  to  give  him 
the  opinion  for  which  he  hoped.  "But  will  you 
please  show  me,  with  that  candlestick,  how,  in 
your  view,  the  blow  was  struck?" 

The  doctor  took  up  the  candlestick,  raised  it 
above  his  right  shoulder  and  then  swung  it  slowly 
downwards  so  that  it  would  have  hit  anyone  sitting 
in  the  chair. 

"Of  course  the  murderer  did  it  quickly,  and  used 
great  force,"  he  observed. 

"Yes,  of  that  there  is  no  doubt,"  said  Crow,  "but 
I  do  not  think  he  did  it  quite  like  that." 

"How  did  he  do  it?" 

Crow  took  the  candlestick  from  the  doctor  and 
demonstrated  with  it. 

"Is  not  that  what  I  did?"  asked  Dr.  Journet. 

"You  used  your  right  hand  and  I  used  my  left," 
replied  Crow. 

"But  I  do  not  understand." 

"Please  look  again  at  the  photograph  which  was 
taken  from  across  the  table,"  said  Crow.  "Now, 
Doctor,  I  am  assuming,  as  you  did,  that  the  mur- 
derer stood  here,  facing  Mile.  Maguire.  Had  he 
been  standing  to  the  right  of  the  table  he  could 
not  have  struck  that  blow  which  fell  on  the  further 
side  of  the  head;  and  that  standard  lamp  prevented 


IO4          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

him  from  striking  the  blow  from  the  left  side  of 
the  table.  Moreover,  unless  the  position  of  that 
candlestick  was  afterwards  changed,  he  picked  up 
the  one  on  his  left,  an  unlikely  thing  for  a  right- 
handed  man  to  do.  And  it  is  my  opinion,  M.  le 
Docteur,  that  a  man  using  his  right  hand  would 
naturally  have  struck  at  the  left  temple  of  his  victim ; 
and  conversely,  a  man  using  his  left  hand  would 
have  aimed  at  the  right  temple." 

"Yes,  yes,  there  is  reason  in  what  you  say." 

"Then  there  is  another  interesting  point,"  Crow 
went  on,  "Look  at  the  angle  which  the  wound  makes. 
It  is  almost  horizontal  and  I  should  have  expected 
it  to  be  very  nearly  perpendicular  if  it  had  been 
caused  by  a  right-handed  swing  across  to  the  right 
side  of  the  head.  Don't  you  agree  with  me?" 

"What  you  say  sounds  reasonable  enough,"  the 
doctor  admitted,  "but  I  should  not  like  to  swear  on 
oath  that  the  unfortunate  woman  was  struck  by  a 
left-handed  man;  and  that,  I  presume  is  what  you 
are  trying  to  establish?" 

"I  am.  Then  you  do  agree  that  the  evidence 
before  us  indicates  a  left-handed  rather  than  a 
right-handed  blow." 

"Yes,  but  I  should  not  like  to  see  a  man  go  to 
the  guillotine  on  that  evidence  alone." 

"Neither  should  I,"  admitted  Crow.  "But  I 
am  not  concerned  with  sending  anyone  to  the 
guillotine;  my  task  is  to  prove  the  innocence  of  a 
young  man  who  has  been  charged  with  the  crime." 


DR.     JOURNETS     OPINION  105 

"Which  hand  does  he  use  naturally?" 

"I  cannot  say,  but  I  shall  very  soon  find 
out." 

"From  the  newspapers  I  understand  that  his 
fingerprints  were  found  on  the  candlestick?" 

"His  explanation  is  that  he  was  handling  it  while 
he  sat  here  arguing  with  his  aunt." 

"No   other  finger-prints   were  found   on  it?" 

"I  believe  not." 

"You  have  examined  the  candlestick,  M.  Crow?" 

"Not  yet.  When  you  return  to  Nice  I  will  ask 
you  to  be  so  kind  as  to  let  me  accompany  you. 
M.  Peille,  the  Commissaire  has  photographs  of  it 
and  I  am  certainly  hoping  that  I  may  learn  something 
from  them." 

"By  all  means,  I  shall  be  delighted  to  have  your 
company,  M.  Crow." 

"Then  before  we  go  would  you  mind  recording 
your  conclusions  in  writing;  that  is  to  say  that  you 
consider,  from  the  evidence,  that  the  candlestick 
was  wielded  by  a  left  handed  person." 

"But  I  cannot  definitely  commit  myself  to  that 
extent,"  said  the  doctor. 

"I  understand  that,  but  will  you  set  it  forth  as 
an  opinion?" 

Dr.  Journet  sat  down  at  the  writing  table  and 
began  writing.  He  considered  every  sentence  care- 
fully before  he  wrote  it,  and  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  elapsed  before  he  handed  the  paper  to 
Crow. 


106          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"  I  have  this  day  examined  the  body  of  Mile.  Maguire 
at  the  mortuary  at  Menton.  I  paid  special  attention  to 
the  depth,  shape  and  exact  position  of  the  wound. 
Subsequently  I  visited  the  Villa  Gloria  and  was  shown 
police  photographs  of  the  body  as  it  was  found,  also  the 
chair  in  which  the  defunct  woman  was  sitting  when  she 
met  her  death. 

"  From  my  observations  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  the 
murderer  struck  Mile.  Maguire  while  he  was  standing 
immediately  opposite  to  her,  across  the  writing  table, 
and  there  are  several  indications  that  the  weapon  was 
held  in  the  left  hand.  While  I  am  not  prepared  to  state 
as  a  certainty  that  a  left-handed  blow  was  struck,  I  base 
my  conclusions  upon  the  following: — 
"Position  of  wound. 

"Angle  at  which  the  wound  lies  upon  the  forehead. 
"The  fact  that  I  should  have  expected  a  right-handed 
man  to  take  up  the  candlestick  which  was  nearest  to 
that  hand. 

"ARISTIDE  JOURNET." 

"I  am  much  indebted  to  you,  M.  le  Docteur," 
said  Crow  when  he  read  it  through.  "And  now, 
if  I  may,  I  will  accompany  you  to  Nice. 

During  the  drive  along  the  Moyenne  Corniche 
the  two  men  did  not  refer  to  the  crime  but  talked  of 
the  Riviera  scenery,  the  winter  sports  resorts  in  the 
mountains,  and  the  hard  struggle  which  the  hotel- 
keepers  were  having  to  fight  against  the  crise  mondiale. 
When  they  reached  Nice  the  car  was  stopped  on 
the  Quai  des  Etats  Unis  and  Martin  Crow  walked 
through  the  narrow  streets  which  lie  immediately 
behind  the  promenade.  At  the  Commissariate  he 


DR.  JOURNET'S  OPINION  107 

was  told  that  M.  Peille  was  out  and  would  not  be 
back  for  two  hours.  Crow  said  he  would  return,  but 
when  he  presented  himself  again  at  the  office  at 
nine  o'clock  he  was  informed  that  the  Commissaire 
had  been  detained  at  Draguignan  where  he  was 
enquiring  into  the  murder  of  a  cultivateur,  and  would 
not  be  back  until  the  following  morning. 

Very  tired,  and  a  little  disappointed,  Martin  Crow 
returned  to  Roquebrune,  and  caused  his  daughter 
considerable  annoyance  by  refusing  to  tell  her  what 
he  had  been  doing. 

"I  can't  understand  what  fun  you  get  out  of 
keeping  things  to  yourself,"  she  said,  irritably. 

Her  father  patted  her  hand  and  smiled. 

"I  don't  get  any  fun  out  of  it,  my  dear,"  he 
replied.  "You  may  not  have  noticed  it  but  I  am, 
at  heart,  a  very  cautious  man,  and  I  dislike  putting 
forward  theories  until  I  am  reasonably  sure  of  my 
ground.  I  am  rather  tired,  so  I  think  I  will  go  to 
bed." 


CHAPTER  XI 

MISS  MAGUIRE'S  WILL 

GROANING  and  snorting  like  some  gigantic 
monster,  a  bull-nosed  engine  hauled  the  Blue 
Train  slowly  round  the  bend  and  came  to  a  standstill 
in  the  covered  station  at  Monte  Carlo.  Not  more 
than  half  a  dozen  people  alighted,  and  a  quick 
glance  along  the  platform  sufficed  to  tell  Martin  Crow 
which  of  the  travellers  was  Miss  Maguire's  lawyer. 

"Mr.  Chart?"  he  asked  as  he  approached  a  neatly 
dressed  little  man  who  wore  a  dark  moustache  and 
horn-rimmed  glasses. 

"Yes,  sir,  that  is  my  name.  You  are,  I  presume, 

the I  beg  your  pardon,  but  am  I  not  addressing 

Mr.  Martin  Crow?" 

Crow  smiled. 

"That  is  quite  correct." 

Mr.  Stephen  Chart  shook  hands. 

"This  is  a  great  pleasure,  I  can  assure  you,"  he 
said.  "I  do  not  think  that  we  ever  actually  met, 
but  I  have  seen  you  many  times  in  the  courts.  Dear 
me!  I  suppose  I  was  expecting  to  be  met  by  the 
British  Consul  who  informed  me  of  my  late  client's 
death.  You  were  acquainted  with  Miss  Maguire?" 

"No,  but  I  seem  to  have  got  myself  mixed  up 
108 


MISS    MAGUIRE'S    WILL  109 

in  the  case.  However,  I  will  explain  all  that  to  you 
later  on.  Where  are  you  staying?" 

"I  really  don't  know.  Where  would  you  advise 
me  to  go?" 

"That  depends  upon  the  type  of  hotel  that  you 
want.  There  is  the  Paris  just  opposite  the  Casino, 
and  the  Metropole  half  way  up  the  hill.  Both  hotels, 
I  am  told,  leave  nothing  to  be  desired  as  regards 
comfort  and  food,  but  it  is  between  two  and  three 
miles  from  here  to  Roquebrune,  so  you  may  prefer 
to  be  somewhere  nearer.  My  daughter  and  I  are 
staying  over  there  at  a  small  but  excellent  Pension, 
and  we  are  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  Miss 
Maguire's  villa." 

"  Then  why  shouldn't  I  go  there,  Mr.  Crow  ? " 

"There  is  no  reason  why  you  shouldn't,  pro- 
vided you  do  not  wish  to  sit  upon  gilded  chairs  and 
be  served  by  white-coated  waiters.  I  asked  Mme. 
Ribaud,  before  I  came  out,  if  she  had  a  room  vacant 
and  she  showed  me  one  next  to  mine." 

"Then  I  will  come  there,  if  you  have  no  objec- 
tion." 

They  passed  out  to  the  station  approach  and  in 
a  few  minutes  were  being  driven  up  the  hill  past  the 
Metropole  on  one  side  and  the  gardens  on  the  other. 

"You  know,  I  suppose,  what  has  taken  place  at 
the  Villa  Gloria?"  Martin  Crow  asked  as  the  car 
turned  into  the  Boulevard  des  Moulins. 

"The  Consul  briefly  stated  in  his  wire  that  my 
client  had  met  with  a  violent  death  and  that  her 


110          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

nephew  had  been  arrested.  Yesterday  the  morning 
papers  were  full  of  the  affair  and  I  obtained  some 
details,  but  how  far  they  were  correct  I  do  not  know. 
Tell  me,  Mr.  Crow,  how  you  come  to  be  connected 
with  the  case." 

"Entirely  by  chance.  On  Monday  last  Mr. 
Michael  Maguire  arrived  at  the  Pension  Mireille, 
where  my  daughter  and  I  are  staying,  accompanied 
by  a  young  lady,  Miss  Alison  Beamish,  and " 

"Ah,  so  she  is  here!" 

"You  know  her,  Mr.  Chart?" 

"Only  by  name.  I  apologise  for  interrupting. 
Please  proceed." 

"We  saw  them  during  luncheon,  and  from  their 
earnest  conversation  and  anxious  expressions,  we 
gathered  that  they  were  in  some  trouble.  At  dinner 
that  night  Miss  Beamish  was  alone.  She  looked 
very  unhappy  and  worried.  The  next  morning  my 
daughter  passed  the  time  of  day  with  her  and  in  the 
evening  we  invited  her  to  take  her  coffee  with  us. 
She  was  painfully  restrained,  but  after  a  while  I 
managed  to  draw  her  out  and  she  seemed  glad  to  have 
someone  to  talk  to.  Before  very  long  she  was  confiding 
her  troubles  to  us.  She  said  that  she  was  engaged  to 
Mr.  Maguire  and  that  his  aunt  was  trying  to  force 
him  to  marry  his  cousin,  a  young  woman  named 
Coral  Trent,  of  whom  you  have,  no  doubt,  heard." 

"Yes,  I  have  met  her,"  said  Mr.  Chart.  "  I  suppose 
Miss  Maguire  threatened  to  disinherit  her  nephew 
and  cut  off  his  allowance?" 


MISS    MAGUIRE'S    WILL  in 

"Yes,  the  matter  was  discussed  on  Monday  night 
and  she  declined  to  accept  his  refusal  to  fall  in  with 
her  plans.  She  told  him  to  consider  carefully  the 
consequences  and  come  to  a  definite  decision  the 
next  night.  The  following  morning,  that  was  on 
Wednesday,  Miss  Beamish  received  a  note  from  her 
fiance  saying  that  he  had  been  arrested  and  charged 
with  the  murder  of  his  aunt.  Did  the  London  papers 
give  any  details  of  the  evidence  upon  which  the 
charge  was  made?" 

"They  said  very  little  beyond  the  fact  that  the 
butler  had  heard  Miss  Maguire  and  her  nephew 
quarrelling  violently,  and  had  found  the  young  man 
standing  over  her  dead  body.  Perhaps  you  would 
be  good  enough  to  give  me  the  essential  points?" 

Martin  Crow  briefly  outlined  the  case. 

"On  the  surface  it  appears  to  be  pretty  black 
for  young  Maguire,"  he  continued,  "but  from  what 
I  have  seen  of  him,  and  from  certain  deductions 
which  I  have  made,  I  am  convinced  that  he  is 
innocent.  You  know  him,  I  suppose?" 

"I  met  him  several  times  when  he  was  a  school- 
boy and  used  to  spend  his  holidays  at  Merryfields, 
Miss  Maguire's  property  in  England.  But  I  do  not 
suppose  that  I  should  know  him  if  I  met  him  in 
the  street." 

"From  what  I  have  heard  I  gather  that  Miss 
Maguire  was  a  woman  with  a  forceful  personality?" 
Crow  said  questioningly. 

The  car  had  left  the  main  road  and  was  descending 


112          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

a  steep  hill  at  the  bottom  of  which  it  crossed  a  deep 
ravine. 

"  In  many  ways  she  was  a  very  remarkable  woman," 
the  lawyer  said  after  a  short  pause.  "  She  had  very 
little  regard  for  what  other  people  thought  of  her 
and  she  had  the  courage  of  her  own  convictions." 

"Hers  was  a  hard  nature,  I  imagine?"  Crow 
remarked.  Again  there  was  a  note  of  interrogation 
in  his  voice. 

"Perhaps  it  was,"  replied  Mr.  Chart,  succinctly 
as  the  car  drew  up  at  the  gate  of  the  Pension  Mireille 
where  he  was  introduced  to  Gerry  and  Alison,  who 
were  returning  from  a  walk. 

During  luncheon  the  lawyer  avoided  making  any 
reference  to  Miss  Maguire's  death  or  to  the  charge 
against  Michael.  He  talked  of  the  cold,  wet  weather 
which  they  had  been  experiencing  in  England,  of 
the  scenery  along  the  coast  between  St.  Raphael 
and  Monte  Carlo;  and  he  recalled  several  of  the 
famous  trials  in  which  Martin  Crow  had  figured  as 
leading  counsel  for  the  defence.  It  was  nearly 
half  past  two  when  they  all  went  up  to  the  Villa 
Gloria  where  they  found  the  Consul  and  M. 
Peille  waiting  for  them  in  the  library.  Mr.  Chart's 
attention  was  at  once  called  to  the  charred  paper 
in  the  fireplace  and  Crow  explained  that  it  was, 
presumably,  the  remains  of  two  wills  which  Miss 
Maguire  had  taken  from  the  safe  when  she  was 
talking  to  her  nephew. 

"Their   destruction   is   of  no   importance,"    said 


MISS    MAGUIRE'S   WILL  113 

the  lawyer,  "thanks  to  Miss  Maguire's  precautions 
which  have  often  occasioned  me  a  great  deal 
of  extra  work.  Fortunately  I  have  here  duplicates 
of  both  documents  with  me." 

"What,  an  executed  will?"  exclaimed  Crow, 
who,  glancing  across  the  room,  noticed  that  Coral 
Trent  had  suddenly  become  interested. 

"One  is  and  one  isn't,"  the  lawyer  replied  as  he 
took  a  long  envelope  from  his  pocket  and  sat  down 
at  the  writing-table.  "This,"  he  went  on  as  he  took 
two  documents  from  the  envelope  and  spread  them 
out  before  him,  "was  executed  by  Miss  Maguire 
at  my  office  in  London  last  June.  The  other " 

Mr.  Chart  broke  off  suddenly  for  Martin  Crow  had 
gone  quickly  across  the  room  on  tiptoe  and  was  opening 
the  doors  leading  into  the  salon.  He  entered  that  room 
and  a  couple  of  minutes  elapsed  before  he  returned. 

"I  apologise,  Mr.  Chart,"  he  said,  as  he  fastened 
the  glass  doors,  "but  I  thought  I  heard  someone 
moving  about  in  there.  I  happen  to  have  an  unusually 
sensitive  ear.  I  have  taken  the  precaution  of  locking 
the  door  which  leads  into  the  hall.  I  hope  you  will 
pardon  the  liberty,  Miss  Trent." 

The  girl  did  not  reply,  but  looked  nervously 
across  the  room. 

"You  think  that  the  servants  might  be  inquisi- 
tive?" asked  the  Consul. 

"I  know  by  experience  that  the  best  trained 
servants  are  seldom  able  to  overcome  that  innate 
curiosity  which  is  in  us  all  to  a  very  great  extent." 


114          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Did  Miss  Maguire  have  English  servants  with 
her  here?"  asked  the  lawyer. 

"I  understand  that  only  the  butler  and  her  own 
personal  maid  are  English,"  Crow  explained.  "The 
others  are  French  or  Italian." 

Mr.  Chart  nodded. 

"I  was  going  to  explain,"  he  said,  "that  Miss 
Maguire  was  a  remarkably  keen  business  woman 
who  managed  her  own  affairs  with  very  little  assist- 
ance. She  sometimes  consulted  me,  but  seldom 
took  my  advice,  unless  what  I  told  her  happened 
to  agree  with  her  own  ideas;  and  I  believe  that  it 
was  the  same  when  she  had  occasion  to  invest 
money.  She  obtained  advice  from  her  brokers  and 
usually  did  something  contrary  to  what  they  had 
said.  Now,  it  was  last  summer  that  she  wrote  to 
me  concerning  the  draft  for  a  new  will.  She  wrote 
from  Aix-les-Bains  telling  me  exactly  how  she 
wished  to  leave  her  property  and  her  money,  and 
said  that  she  would  call  at  my  office  in  the  course 
of  two  or  three  weeks,  and  would  execute  it.  She 
said  that  she  wished  to  have  two  copies,  and  that 
she  would  take  one  away  with  her." 

"Was  she  in  the  habit  of  having  things  in  dupli- 
cate?" asked  Martin  Crow. 

"No,  she  had  never  made  such  a  request  before, 
and  I  naturally  thought  it  a  little  strange.  How- 
ever, when  she  called  to  sign  the  will  she  casually 
remarked  that  she  felt  she  would  like  to  have  a 
copy  to  which  she  could  refer  at  any  time.  It  was 


MISS  MAGUIRE'S   WILL  115 

quite  a  short  document,  as  you  see,  although  it 
disposes  of  capital  investments  amounting  to  some- 
thing like  £200,000,  in  addition  to  her  property  in 
England,  this  villa,  and  a  quantity  of  old  family 
jewellery.  It  commences  by  appointing  myself  as 
her  sole  executor  and  then  provides  for  several 
bequests  to  charities.  I  need  not  trouble  you  with 
these  at  the  moment;  they  only  amount  to  some 
£5,000.  Then  she  leaves  Merryfields,  the  property 
near  Church  Mortimer,  and  one  half  of  the  residue, 
absolutely  to  her  nephew,  Michael  Maguire;  and 
this  villa  and  the  other  half  of  the  residue  to  her 
niece,  Coral  Trent." 

"Then  this  is  all  mine?"  cried  Coral,  half  rising 
from  her  chair.  Stephen  Chart  stared  at  her  in 
blank  amazement  for  a  moment,  and  then  said, 

"Yes,  in  the  absence  of  any  other  will  which  may 
have  been  executed  subsequent  to  June  i5th  of 
last  year." 

"But  there  isn't  another  one,  is  there?"  asked 
the  girl,  anxiously. 

"As  far  as  I  am  aware  there  is  no  other,"  replied 
the  lawyer,  "but  your  aunt  had,  in  her  possession, 
another  will  which  she  was  going  to  sign  under 
certain  circumstances." 

Coral  had  sat  down  again  and  was  staring  at  her 
clasped  hands.  Martin  Crow  was  explaining  the 
terms  of  the  will  to  M.  Peille,  who  did  not  appear 
to  be  greatly  interested.  When  Crow  had  concluded 
he  turned  to  Chart. 


Il6          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"How  much  do  you  imagine  the  residue  would 
amount  to?"  he  asked. 

"That  will  greatly  depend  upon  the  present 
value  of  Miss  Maguire's  investments,  but  at  a  rough 
guess,  and  after  allowing  for  the  death  duties,  I 
should  say  that  the  residue  would  be  somewhere 
about  £100,000." 

"Miss  Maguire  was  a  wealthy  woman,"  remarked 
the  Consul.  "Did  she  inherit  the  whole  of  the 
fortune  from  her  father?" 

"No,  not  more  than  about  two-thirds  of  it,"  said 
Chart.  "To  my  certain  knowledge  Miss  Maguire 
has  been  saving  a  very  considerable  proportion  of 
her  annual  income  for  the  last  eight  years,  and  she 
has  been  investing  all  that  she  has  saved.  Although 
she  spent  a  good  deal  of  money  on  providing  herself 
with  a  comfortable  home,  both  here  and  in  England, 
Miss  Maguire  could  never  have  been  justly  accused 
of  being  extravagant.  In  this  will  she  expresses  the 
wish  that  she  will  be  buried  as  inexpensively  as 
possible,  and  that  no  one  should  make  any  outward 
display  of  mourning." 

"Which  means,  I  suppose,  that  she  will  be  buried 
here?"  the  Consul  questioned. 

"I  imagine  so,"  replied  the  lawyer,  who  laid 
aside  the  will  which  he  had  been  discussing  and 
took  up  the  other  document.  "Now  this,"  he  said, 
"is,  of  course,  valueless  because  it  is  unsigned,  but 
I  think  that  I  should  reveal  its  conditions,  because 
they  may  have  some  close  bearing  upon  the  murder. 


MISS   MAGUIRE'S    WILL  117 

I  received  instructions  from  Miss  Maguire  last 
September,  just  before  she  returned  to  France.  A 
week  or  so  later  a  draft  was  posted  to  this  villa  and 
after  an  interval  of  several  weeks  it  came  back^with 
two  or  three  pencilled  corrections.  In  due  course  I 
sent  Miss  Maguire  an  engrossed  copy  and,  appar- 
ently, she  was  quite  satisfied,  and  told  me  that  if, 
and  when,  she  signed  them  she  would  return  one 
to  me  and  keep  the  other.  Under  the  terms  of  this 
will  Michael  Maguire  would  have  received  nothing 
whatever  unless  he  had  consented  to  marry  his 
cousin,  Coral  Trent.  If  he  were  married  to  her  he 
would,  as  by  the  terms  of  the  previous  will,  share 
equally  the  residue  with  his  cousin;  Merryfields 
would  be  his  personal  property,  and  this  villa  would 
be  his  wife's.  In  the  event  of  his  refusing  to  marry 
his  cousin  Miss  Trent  was  to  inherit  both  properties 
and  the  whole  of  the  residue  provided" — the  lawyer 
paused  and  glanced  across  at  Coral  whose  eyes  had 
been  fixed  intently  upon  him  while  he  had  been 
speaking — "provided  she  was  not  already  married 
to  Alan  Berwick,  or  to  any  other  man  of  whom  I 
did  not  entirely  approve." 

"But  I  never  wanted  to  marry  Mr.  Berwick!" 
cried  Coral,  glancing  furtively  at  Martin  Crow. 

"But  Mr.  Berwick  wished  to  marry  you,  Miss 
Trent,"  said  Stephen  Chart. 

"It's  the  first  that  I've  heard  of  it,"  the  girl 
declared,  sullenly. 

"Very  well,"  said  the  lawyer,   curtly,  "I  am  not 


Il8          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

here  to  discuss  that  question  which  has  no  impor- 
tance unless  an  executed  copy  of  this  will  can  be 
found.  That  is  not  quite  all,  however.  In  the  event 
of  Miss  Trent  marrying  Alan  Berwick,  or  anyone 
of  whom  I  did  not  approve,  at  any  time,  she  was 
to  forfeit  the  whole  of  her  inheritance;  this  villa 
was  to  be  sold,  and  Merryfields  was  to  be  endowed 
as  a  retreat  for  aged  gentlewomen  in  reduced  cir- 
cumstances." 

"Were  you  aware  that  your  aunt  had  made  that 
condition,  Miss  Trent?"  Crow  asked. 

"Certainly  not." 

"Had  there  ever  been  any  discussion  between 
Miss  Maguire  and  yourself  concerning  the  possi- 
bility of  your  marrying  Mr.  Berwick?" 

"No,  never." 

"Then  can  you  suggest  any  reason  for  your  aunt 
making  such  provisions,  or  rather  contemplating 
making  them?" 

"No,  I  cannot." 

"You  did  not  wish  to  marry  him?" 

"I  have  already  told  Mr.  Chart  that  I  didn't." 

"That,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  is  all  that  I  can 
tell  you  concerning  Miss  Maguire's  testamentary 
intentions,"  said  Stephen  Chart.  "Is  it  absolutely 
certain,  Mr.  Crow,  beyond  all  possible  doubt,  that 
Miss  Maguire  did  not  execute  this  second  will, 
and  that  her  copies  of  both  have  been  destroyed?" 

"I  can  only  tell  you  that  Michael  Maguire  in- 
formed the  police,  and  subsequently  the  Consul 


MISS    MAGUIRE'S    WILL  119 

and  myself,  that  she  told  him  that  the  second  one  was 
not  signed  on  Tuesday  night,  and  that  M.  Peille 
and  his  men  have  been  unable  to  find  any  trace  of 
either  will  apart  from  the  charred  remains  which 
you  see  over  there  in  the  fireplace." 

Crow  translated  the  lawyer's  question,  and  his 
own  reply,  to  the  Commissaire  who  nodded  his 
head  and  pointed  to  the  fireplace. 

"Then  for  the  moment  we  must  assume  that  this 
will,  which  was  signed  at  my  office  in  June  of  last 
year,  is  the  last  will  and  testament  of  my  late  client," 
said  the  lawyer  as  he  folded  the  two  documents 
and  returned  them  to  their  envelope. 

"You  did  not  witness  the  signature  to  the  other 
copy?"  asked  Martin  Crow. 

"No,  she  informed  me  that  she  had  signed  it 
before  two  witnesses,  but  did  not  say  when  or  where 
that  took  place.  Now  there  is  the  question  of  the 
funeral  to  consider,"  Mr.  Chart  went  on,  addressing 
his  remark  to  the  Consul. 

"How  soon  can  the  interment  take  place,  M. 
Peille?"  the  latter  asked  the  Commissaire. 

"As  soon  as  you  can  make  the  necessary  arrange- 
ments, M.  le  Consul.  The  autopsy  has  been  com- 
pleted and  we  are  satisfied  that  the  unfortunate  lady 
died  through  receiving  a  blow  on  the  head  from  a 
heavy  candlestick.  There  are  no  other  injuries 
and  all  her  organs  were  sound;  and  it  is  out  of 
the  question  that  the  wound  could  have  been  self- 
inflicted." 


120          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

While  the  Consul  and  Stephen  Chart  were  dis- 
cussing the  funeral  arrangements  Martin  Crow 
took  the  Commissaire  on  to  the  terrace. 

"Have  you  discovered  anything  from  the  photo- 
graph of  that  finger-print  which  we  found  on  the 
window?"  he  asked. 

"We  have  compared  it  with  the  prints  taken 
from  everyone  in  the  villa,  the  servants,  the  chauffeur, 
the  gardeners,  Mile.  Trent  and  even  Mile.  Maguire 
herself,  but  it  does  not  correspond  with  any  of  them." 

"Then  who  made  it,  do  you  imagine?" 

The   Commissaire  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"There  are  many  mauvais  gens  who  pass  along 
this  road  from  the  frontier  to  Nice,"  he  said,  "and 
it  is  possible  that  one  of  those  good-for-nothing 
fellows  wandered  round  the  villa  one  night  and 
looked  through  the  window." 

"Well,  perhaps  you  are  right,  M.  Peille,"  said 
Crow,  "but  I  am  hoping  that  that  finger-print  will 
prove  to  be  of  some  importance.  By  the  way,  I 
called  at  your  office  yesterday  evening  to  see  the 
photographs  of  the  candlestick,  but  they  told  me 
that  you  were  being  detained  in  Draguignan." 

"A  thousand  pardons,  Monsieur.  Yes,  I  was 
kept  there  until  this  morning.  You  could  make  it 
convenient  to  come  over  to-morrow?" 

"At  what  time?" 

"Shall  we  say  eleven  o'clock?"  "  I  shall  be 
waiting  to  show  you  the  photographs,  M.  Crow." 

They  returned  to  the  library  and  found  Stephen 


MISS    MAGUIRE'S   WILL  121 

Chart  talking  to  Coral  Trent  who,  apparently,  had 
asked  him  how  she  was  to  obtain  money  for  the 
upkeep  of  the  villa. 

"I  shall  make  all  arrangements  for  that  to-morrow, 
Miss  Trent,"  the  lawyer  was  saying.  "  For  the 
present  I  shall  be  responsible  for  everything  here." 

"But  how  long  will  it  be  before  I  get  my  money?" 
persisted  the  girl. 

"That  will  greatly  depend  upon  what  happens 
to  your  cousin.  In  any  case  it  will  not  be  for  several 
months." 

"Several  months!  But  if  the  money  is  mine  why 
shouldn't  I  have  it  at  once?" 

"My  dear  young  lady,"  said  Stephen  Chart  in  a 
tone  which,  he  hoped,  would  have  a  calming  effect, 
"when  a  person  dies  a  great  many  legal  formalities 
have  to  be  complied  with  before  beneficiaries  under 
a  will  can  have  their  inheritances.  But  you  need 
not  worry.  As  I  said  just  now,  I  shall  be  responsible 
for  everything  here  until  matters  are  finally  settled. 
Now,  Mr.  Crow,  are  you  waiting  for  me?" 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE   BUTLER 

MARTIN  CROW  suggested  that  they  should 
have  tea  at  the  Four-and-Twenty  Blackbirds 
where  they  sat  in  the  window  from  which  there 
is  an  uninterrupted  view  of  the  whole  bay  and  the 
wooded  slopes  of  Mont  Agel. 

"Does  the  existence  of  another  will  make  any 
difference  to  Michael's  position?"  Alison  asked 
anxiously,  in  a  whisper. 

"No,  I  do  not  think  that  it  will  affect  him  either 
way,"  Crow  replied,  leaning  across  the  table  and 
lowering  his  voice.  "But  I  think  we  will  reserve  any 
discussion  until  we  have  greater  privacy,  my  dear. 
Try  not  to  worry  more  than  you  can  help.  Every  hour, 
almost,  I  am  finding  out  things  which,  unless  I  am 
sadly  mistaken,  are  very  much  in  Michael's  favour." 

Alison  smiled,  and  the  case  was  not  referred  to 
again  until  they  had  had  their  tea  and  were  standing 
outside  in  the  road. 

"I  wonder  if  you  would  care  to  come  back  to  the 
villa  with  me,  Mr.  Chart?"  Crow  asked  the  lawyer. 
"I  should  like  to  have  a  little  talk  with  that  butler, 
and  it  would  be  interesting  to  have  your  opinion 
of  him  afterwards." 


122 


THE     BUTLER  123 

"By  all  means." 

"Then  we  shall  see  you  two  girls  later,"  Crow 
remarked,  and  the  two  men  retraced  their  steps 
towards  the  Villa  Gloria. 

"Do  you  imagine  that  the  butler  may  have  had 
something  to  do  with  the  crime?"  Stephen  Chart 
asked. 

"At  the  moment  I  really  have  very  little  reason 
for  suspecting  anything  of  the  kind,"  Crow  replied, 
"but  I  should  like  to  have  an  opportunity  to  study 
him  closely  and  asking  him  a  few  questions. 
Since  you  are  arranging  for  the  upkeep  of  the  villa 
I  thought  you  might  pretend  to  require  information 
concerning  the  wages  and  housekeeping  costs.  I 
don't  want  him  to  think  that  we  have  come  back  on 
purpose  to  pump  him." 

"No,  that  is  certainly  to  be  avoided.  Perhaps  I 
should  say  a  few  words  to  Miss  Trent  first,  since 
she  is  virtually  mistress  there.  What  do  you  think?" 

"I  suppose  it  would  be  the  civil  thing  to  do, 
although  I  don't  know  that  her  attitude  this  after- 
noon called  for  any  special  consideration  in  return. 
However,  it  might  be  tactful  to  ask  for  her  and 
explain  what  you  want,  I  should  prefer  to  question 
the  man  alone." 

"I  think  we  ought  to  be  able  to  arrange  that," 
said  Chart  as  he  rang  the  bell. 

Boughton  admitted  them  and  showed  them  into 
the  salon.  After  a  few  minutes  Coral  Trent  came 
into  the  room  and  the  lawyer  explained  that  he 


124          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

wished  to  find  out  how  much  money  would  be  re- 
quired each  week. 

"I'm  afraid  I  can't  tell  you,"  replied  the  girl  in 
a  less  sullen  tone.  "I  never  had  anything  to  do  with 
the  housekeeping." 

"Do  you  think  that  the  butler  would  be  able  to 
tell  me  anything?" 

"I  expect  he  could  tell  you  how  much  the  wages 
amount  to,  and  perhaps  how  the  food  is  paid  for. 
My  aunt  always  saw  to  everything  herself.  But 
why  can't  you  give  me  a  weekly  sum,  Mr.  Chart, 
and  leave  everything  to  me?  This  villa  belongs  to 
me,  doesn't  it?" 

"I  am  not  permitted  to  hand  over  any  money 
to  anyone  until  the  will  has  been  proved  and  various 
other  formalities  have  been  complied  with,  Miss 
Trent.  Will  you  permit  me  to  ring  for  the  butler?" 

Coral  Trent  sat  down. 

"By  all  means." 

"  I  think  that  Mr.  Crow  would  like  to  ask  Boughton 
one  or  two  questions  concerning  your  cousin  and 
would  prefer  to  see  him  alone." 

"You  wish  me  to  go?" 

"Your  presence  in  the  room  might  have  the 
effect  of  making  him  nervous  and  restrained,  Miss 
Trent." 

Coral  got  up  and  walked  slowly  through  the 
open  window  on  to  the  terrace.  Boughton  entered 
the  room  almost  at  the  same  moment  and  stood  in 
the  centre  of  the  room  while  the  lawyer  explained 


THE     BUTLER  125 

his  own  position  and  the  necessity  for  knowing 
roughly  how  much  money  would  be  required  each 
week.  Boughton  knew,  to  within  a  hundred  francs, 
how  much  the  household  expenses  amounted  to. 

"I  suppose  this  means  that  I  shall  have  to  look 
for  another  situation,  sir?"  he  said  when  he  had 
given  Stephen  Chart  all  the  information  that  was 
required. 

"That  is  not  for  me  to  say,"  the  lawyer  replied. 

"But  won't  the  villa  and  Merryfields  be  sold 
up,  sir?" 

"At  the  moment  I  see  no  reason  why  they  should 
be.  What  put  that  idea  into  your  head?" 

"I  understood  from  what  the  French  police  told 
Miss  Trent,  that  Miss  Maguire's  will  has  been 
destroyed,  and  I  gathered  that  there  would  be  some 
difficulties  in  consequence." 

"A  great  deal  will  depend  upon  what  happens 
to  Mr.  Maguire,"  Martin  Crow  said,  speaking  for 
the  first  time  since  Boughton  entered  the  room. 

"Do  you  think  that  he  will  get  off,  sir?"  The 
butler  sounded  genuinely  concerned. 

"That  is  rather  a  difficult  question  to  answer," 
said  the  lawyer.  "What  is  your  opinion,  Mr.  Crow?" 

"I  should  not  like  to  make  any  prediction," 
replied  Martin.  "It  is  possible,  Boughton,  that 
you  might  be  able  to  throw  some  light  upon  this 
unfortunate  business.  You  knew  Mr.  Maguire 
fairly  well,  didn't  you?" 

"Hardly  that  sir.    During  the  two  years  that  I 


126          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

have  been  in  his  aunt's  service  I  don't  suppose  I 
have  seen  him  more  than  half  a  dozen  times,  when 
he  came  to  Merryfields  for  occasional  week-ends." 

"Well,  have  you  been  able  to  form  any  opinion 
since  .  .  .  since  the  tragedy?" 

"In  what  way,  sir?" 

"Do  you  think  that  he  killed  his  aunt?" 

Boughton  shook  his  head. 

"I  find  it  very  difficult  to  look  upon  him  as  a  pos- 
sible murderer,  sir;  and  yet "  He  hesitated. 

"Yes,  Boughton?" 

"I  really  don't  see  how  anyone  else  could  have 
done  it." 

"You  mean  that  no  one  could  have  entered  the 
villa?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Might  not  someone  have  entered  earlier  in  the 
evening,  perhaps  during  dinner,  or  even  before  that, 
and  have  concealed  himself  somewhere?" 

"I  think  it  is  most  unlikely,  sir;  besides,  how  could 
he  have  got  away.  Everything  was  fastened  and 
locked." 

"I  think  you  told  the  police  that  the  front  door 
was  open  when  you  came  downstairs?" 

"But  Mr.  Maguire  himself  admitted  opening 
that." 

"I  know,"  said  Crow,  "but  let  us  suppose  that 
someone  had  been  hiding  in  the  salon,  he  might  have 
gone  back  there  when  he  heard  Mr.  Maguire  coming 
down  the  stairs,  and  seen  him  opening  the  front  door, 


THE     BUTLER  I2y 

and  then  going  into  the  library.  Now  couldn't 
he  have  slipped  out  then?" 

"No,  sir.  The  drawing-room  door  was  bolted 
on  the  outside,"  replied  Boughton  without  a  moment's 
hesitation. 

"And  the  dining-room  door?" 

"That  was  bolted  also,  sir." 

"Now  tell  me,  Boughton,  when  Mr.  Maguire 
went  to  Merryfields  for  those  week-ends  that  you 
spoke  of,  did  he  appear  to  be  on  affectionate  terms 
with  his  aunt?" 

"I  should  hardly  use  the  word  affectionate,  sir." 

"Amicable?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"And  when  he  came  here  last  Monday?" 

"They  were  quite  friendly,  sir,  and  I  noticed 
nothing  unusual  until  .  .  .  well,  sir,  after  dinner 
that  night." 

"What  happened  then?" 

"They  were  having  a  serious  disagreement  in  the 
library." 

"Did  you  hear  what  they  were  saying?" 

"Oh  no,  sir,  but  I  heard  them  talking  antagon- 
istically." 

"And  what  were  they  like  with  each  other  the  next 
day?" 

"Quite  ordinary,  sir.  They  all  went  out  in  the 
car  in  the  morning,  and  I  think  that  Mr.  Michael 
and  Miss  Trent  went  out  again  in  the  afternoon; 
yes,  of  course  they  did.  After  dinner  they  played 


128          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

cards  again  and  then,  as  I  was  going  up  to  bed  I 
heard  their  voices  raised  in  anger  as  I  had  done  the 
previous  night." 

"Was  Miss  Trent  in  the  library  with  them?" 

"No,  sir,  she  was  going  up  to  bed  the  same  time 
as  I  was." 

"I  understand  that  you  weren't  feeling  very 
well?" 

"No,  sir,  I  wasn't  feeling  quite  myself." 

"Could  you  hear  what  either  of  them  was 
saying?" 

"I  heard  him  say  'I'll  be  damned  if  I  do';  that 
was  all  I  overheard,  sir.  But  it  was  more  his  tone 
than  what  he  actually  said  that  attracted  my 
attention." 

"And  you  went  straight  to  bed?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"And  what  did  you  hear  next?" 

"I  heard  Mr.  Maguire  bounding  up  the  stairs 
and  going  into  his  room.  Then,  for  twenty  minutes 
or  perhaps  it  was  half  an  hour,  everything  was 
quiet,  then  I  heard  him  banging  about  in  his  room 
which  was  just  opposite  mine  across  the  landing." 

"What  did  you  think  he  was  doing?" 

"I  thought  he'd  fairly  lost  his  temper  and  was 
flinging  his  things  about." 

"I  believe  he  told  the  police  that  he  was  packing 
his  suit-case?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"And  what  happened  after  that?" 


THE     BUTLER 

"I  heard  him  opening  his  door  and  going 
downstairs." 

"And  you  followed  him?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"How  soon?" 

"After  about  ten  minutes." 

"You  are  sure  it  was  as  long  as  that?" 

"Not  far  off  ten,  sir.  I  was  in  bed  and  I  got  up 
and  put  on  my  trousers  and  an  overcoat." 

"It  took  you  ten  minutes  to  do  that?" 

"No,  sir,  I  didn't  get  up  at  once.  I  lay  there  for 
a  few  minutes  wondering  if  I  ought  to  go  down  and 
see  that  everything  was  all  right." 

"What  made  you  anxious?" 

"He  seemed  to  be  in  such  a  terrible  state,  sir, 
judging  by  the  way  he  came  up  the  stairs,  banged 
his  door,  and  then  started  racketing  about." 

"  Did  it  occur  to  you  that  he  might  do  Miss  Maguire 
any  bodily  harm?" 

"Not  actually  that,  sir,  but  I  thought  he  might 
be  worrying  her." 

"If  you  were  feeling  anxious  I  do  not  understand 
why  you  did  not  go  down  at  once,  instead  of  lying 
in  bed." 

"Well,  sir,  a  man  in  my  position  hesitates  to 
interfere  with  private  affairs  in  the  house.  At  first 
I  thought  that  he  might  have  gone  down  to  fetch 
something  that  he  had  forgotten,  but  when  he 
didn't  return  I  decided  to  go  and  see  what  was 
happening." 


130          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Yes,  Boughton,  that  is  a  reasonable  explanation. 
I  appreciate  your  point  of  view.  And  what  did  you 
discover  when  you  got  downstairs?" 

"I  first  noticed  that  the  front  door  was  open  and 
that  Mr.  Michael's  suit-case  was  standing  beside  it. 
Then  I  saw  that  the  library  door  was  open  and  I 
heard  a  movement  in  the  room." 

"Yes?" 

"I  went  in  and  saw  Miss  Maguire  slumped  down 
in  her  chair  with  a  terrible  wound  on  the  side  of  her 
head,  and  Mr.  Michael  standing  over  her,  and  one 
of  the  silver  candlesticks  lying  on  the  floor  a  few 
inches  from  his  feet." 

"What  did  you  do?" 

"I  didn't  do  anything  for  some  moments,  sir,  I 
was  too  overcome.  Suddenly  he  looked  round  and  I 
noticed  that  there  was  blood  on  his  hand  and  the 
sleeve  of  his  coat.  I  think  I  said  '  what's  happened  ? ', 
and  he  replied  that  someone  had  got  in  and  murdered 
his  aunt." 

"What  did  you  say  to  that?" 

"Nothing,  sir.  I  went  across  to  the  windows  to 
see  if  they  were  fastened  and  found  that  they  were." 

"Did  you  come  to  any  conclusion?" 

"Well,  sir,  it  flashed  through  my  mind  that  Mr. 
Michael  must  have  done  it,  but  I  hoped  that  there 
would  be  some  other  explanation.  I  asked  him  to 
look  at  the  windows  in  the  drawing-room  and  dining- 
room  while  I  went  round  the  servants'  quarters. 
I  had  seen  to  the  locking  up  before  I  went  to  bed, 


THE     BUTLER  131 

but  I  thought  that  someone  might  have  forced  their 
way  in.  We  both  found  every  window  and  door 
securely  fastened.  I  then  telephoned  to  the 
police." 

"You  speak  French,  Boughton?" 

"Just  a  few  words  that  I've  picked  up  during  the 
two  winters  that  I've  been  here  with  Miss  Maguire. 
I  just  managed  to  make  them  understand  that  some- 
one had  been  killed." 

"What  was  your  opinion  at  the  time  that  you 
telephoned?" 

"I  couldn't  very  well  help  thinking  that  Mr. 
Michael  must  have  done  it,  seeing  that  no  one  could 
have  got  into  the  villa." 

"Where  was  Miss  Trent  all  this  time?" 

"Upstairs  in  her  room,  sir." 

"When  did  she  first  come  upon  the  scenes?" 

"She  came  downstairs  while  I  was  telephoning, 
sir." 

"Was  she  very  much  upset?" 

"Nothing  out  of  the  ordinary,  sir.  She  seemed  to 
be  more  dazed  than  upset,  and  after  a  few  minutes 
wanted  to  go  into  the  library,  but  Mr.  Michael 
stopped  her  and  asked  me  to  call  Miss  Maguire's 
maid." 

"When  was  the  front  door  closed?" 

"I  shut  it,  sir,  before  I  went  round  the  servants' 
quarters." 

"Where  was  Mr.  Maguire  when  you  shut  it?" 

Boughton  hesitated  for  a  second. 


132          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"I  really  couldn't  say  for  certain.  I  think  he  had 
gone  into  the  drawing-room." 

"And  what  happened  to  his  suit-case?" 

"It  was  left  standing  in  the  hall,  sir,  where  he  had 
put  it  down." 

"That  all  seems  to  be  very  clear  and  concise, 
Boughton,"  said  Crow.  "You  are  an  admirable 
witness.  Now,  let  us  assume  that  Mr.  Maguire 
had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  his  aunt's  death, 
can  you  offer  any  suggestions  as  to  who  could  have 
murdered  her;  or  how  anyone  might  have  got  into 
the  villa  and  then  made  his  escape?" 

"I  can't  sir.  It  is  a  complete  mystery  to  me  if 
Mr.  Michael  didn't  do  it." 

"  Had  Miss  Maguire  many  friends  in  Roquebrune  ? ' ' 

"None  who  came  to  the  villa,  sir.  Miss  Maguire 
kept  very  much  to  herself,  both  here  and  in  England." 

"Mr.  Berwick  was  a  visitor  here,  of  course?" 

"Mr.  Berwick,  sir?  He  has  never  been  to  the  villa 
to  my  knowledge  until  ...  he  never  came  before 
Miss  Maguire's  death." 

"Did  he  visit  Miss  Maguire  at  Merryfields?" 

"I  saw  him  there  once  or  twice  the  year  before 
last,  and  two  or  three  times  last  summer  when  Miss 
Maguire  and  Miss  Trent  first  returned  from  France." 

"I  thought  that  he  and  your  mistress  were  great 
friends?" 

"His  mother  owns  the  property  adjoining  Merry- 
fields,  sir,  but  I  don't  think  that  Miss  Maguire 
altogether  approved  of  the  young  gentleman." 


THE     BUTLER  133 

"Oh.    What  makes  you  think  that,  Boughton?" 

"Last  summer,  sir,  she  gave  orders  to  me  to  say 
that  both  she  and  Miss  Trent  were  not  at  home  if 
he  called." 

"Do  you  know  why  she  did  not  approve  of  him?" 

"I  can't  say,  sir.    It  was  none  of  my  business." 

"Quite.  Well,  Boughton,  I  think  that  is  all  I  want 
to  ask  you,"  said  Crow,  as  he  stood  up.  "Do  you 
want  to  ask  any  more  questions,  Mr.  Chart?" 

"There  is  just  one  point  about  which  I  am  not 
clear,"  said  the  lawyer.  "When  you  went  across  to 
the  library  windows,  Boughton,  did  you  expect  to 
find  them  closed  and  fastened?" 

"As  it  was  a  fairly  warm  evening,  sir,  I  rather 
expected  to  find  one  of  them  open,  but  I  wasn't 
surprised  when  I  found  them  shut.  Miss  Maguire 
liked  the  room  to  be  very  warm." 

"Were  they  open  when  they  went  into  the  room 
after  dinner?"  asked  Stephen  Chart. 

"Yes.  I  believe  that  Mr.  Michael  and  Miss  Trent 
have  both  said  that  neither  of  them  closed  the 
windows,  so  I  imagine  that  Miss  Maguire  did  it 
herself,  after  her  nephew  went  out  of  the  room." 

"Was  she  in  the  habit  of  sitting  up  late?" 

"Yes,  sir,  she  used  to  sit  up  to  all  hours  playing 
patience  or  doing  jig-saw  puzzles." 

"I  think  that  is  all,  Mr.  Crow.  I  dare  say  I  shall 
have  occasion  to  come  and  see  Miss  Trent  again 
to-morrow." 

The  two  men  were  shown  to  the  front  door  by 


134          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

Boughton,  who  expressed  the  hope  that  his  answers 
to  their  questions  might  be  of  some  use  in  establishing 
Michael's  Maguire's  innocence. 

"I  think  that  it  may  be  of  the  greatest  assistance," 
Crow  replied.  As  they  reached  the  road  he  said  to 
his  companion:  "What  do  you  make  of  that  fellow, 
Mr.  Chart?" 

"A  typical,  well-trained  manservant  of  the  old- 
fashioned,  honest  type,  I  should  say.  Is  that  how  he 
strikes  you?" 

"Yes,  I  suppose  that  just  about  sums  him  up," 
Crow  answered,  as  they  turned  down  the  road 
which  led  to  the  Pension  Mireille,  and  the  station 
beyond. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

CHARLES   CARTHEW? 

'\7'ES,  let  us  sit  in  the   garden,    by  all  means," 

1  said  Stephen  Chart,  as  they  finished  their  dinner, 
"and  I  will  tell  you  as  much  of  the  lady's  history 
as  I  know." 

As  they  went  out  Gerry  held  her  father  back  while 
Alison  and  the  lawyer  went  on  a  little  way. 

"What  have  you  discovered  this  evening,  Father?" 
Gerry  asked,  eagerly. 

"Nothing  in  particular,  my  dear." 

Gerry  jerked  her  shoulders  impatiently. 

"I  hate  you  when  you  talk  like  that,"  she  said. 
"I  could  tell  directly  you  came  down  to  dinner  that 
you  had  made  some  important  discovery  and  were 
pleased.  You  might  tell  me  what  it  is." 

Martin  Crow  smiled  and  shook  his  head. 

"Directly  I  know  anything  definite  I  will  tell 
you,  my  child,"  he  replied  as  he  began  to  follow 
the  others.  "At  the  moment  I  am  in  what  you  might 
call  a  fog  of  speculation,  and  while  I  am  in  that  state 
it  is  best  that  I  should  keep  my  mouth  shut." 

"I  think  you  are  perfectly  horrid,"  pouted  his 
daughter  in  a  hurt  tone.  Crow  tweaked  her  ear 
playfully  and  told  her  not  to  be  a  spoilt  child. 

135 


136          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"I  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Crow,  on  your  choice 
of  your  quarters,"  said  the  lawyer  as  they  all  sat  down 
in  the  little  arbour.  "What  a  wonderful  night  for 
this  time  of  year;  the  last  week  in  March." 

"Father  is  an  expert  at  finding  beauty  spots," 
said  Gerry  as  she  offered  Stephen  Chart  her  cigarette 
case. 

"Thank  you,  Miss  Crow,  but  I'll  have  my  pipe 
if  no  one  objects.  I  see  that  there  is  a  liner  anchored 
off  Monaco.  I  wonder  what  it  is  ? " 

"A  Cunarder,  by  the  colour  of  her  funnels," 
replied  Crow.  "They  usually  make  Monaco  one  of 
their  ports  of  call  when  they  are  cruising  in  the 
Mediterranean.  Dear  me!  Just  look  at  those 
reflections!  I've  never  seen  the  sea  so  calm.  There 
isn't  a  ripple  anywhere.  Well,  Mr.  Chart,  what 
have  you  to  tell  us  about  Miss  Maguire.  As  many 
details  as  you  can  muster,  please.  Details  are  usually 
so  much  more  important  than  the  great  big  facts 
that  shout  at  you." 

Stephen  Chart  lighted  his  pipe. 

"Miss  Jennifer  Maguire,"  he  began,  "must  have 
been  close  upon  sixty  years  of  age.  If  hers  was  a 
hard,  unsympathetic,  domineering  nature,  it  was 
by  no  means  without  its  good  qualities.  She  was  a 
woman  who  took  sudden  and  violent  likes  and 
dislikes  to  people. 

"I  told  you  something  about  Miss  Maguire  this 
morning,  but  I  doubt  if  you  were  able  to  form  an 
idea  of  what  she  was  really  like.  I  first  met  her 


CHARLES     CARTHEW?  137 

when  I  became  my  father's  partner,  nearly  forty 
years  ago.  My  father  was  a  close  friend  of  old  Mathew 
Maguire,  and  I  spent  many  a  week-end  at  Merry- 
fields,  where  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  his  daughters, 
Jennifer  and  Annie.  Annie  was  the  younger  and  was, 
in  many  ways,  a  very  attractive  young  woman.  She 
had  many  admirers,  but  they  were  all  sent  about 
their  business  by  the  father." 

"Why  was  that?"  asked  Martin  Crow. 

"I  believe  it  was  entirely  due  to  his  domineering 
spirit;  his  love  of  keeping  people  completely  under 
his  will.  Even  in  those  days  Miss  Jennifer  was  cold 
and  reserved;  very  different  from  her  sister,  who 
was  a  normal,  light-hearted  girl,  and  must  have  been 
very  unhappy,  shut  up  in  that  large  house  and  under 
the  tyrannical  jurisdiction  of  her  father.  She  endured 
it  until  she  was  twenty-seven,  or  eight,  and  then  she 
fell  deeply  in  love  with  a  man  named  Edward  Trent. 
As  with  her  previous  admirers,  old  Maguire  tried 
to  dismiss  him,  but  Trent  was  of  stouter  stuff  than 
the  others;  and  Annie  was  more  deeply  in  love  than 
she  had  been  before.  There  was  a  terrible  scene 
when  the  girl  refused  to  give  up  her  lover,  and  the 
father  turned  her  out  of  the  house  and  said  that  he 
never  wanted  to  see  her  again.  She  went;  married 
Edward  Trent,  and  together  they  left  England  for 
Australia  where,  I  understand,  he  was  at  one  time 
a  prosperous  sheep  farmer. 

"You  may  think  that  this  has  nothing  to  do  with 
Miss  Jennifer  Maguire,"  the  lawyer  continued, 


138          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"but  I  think  that  it  is  all  pertinent  to  the  present 
case.  Mathew  Maguire  dismissed  his  younger 
daughter  from  his  mind;  held  no  communication 
whatever  with  her,  and  forbade  his  elder  daughter 
to  correspond  with  her.  Miss  Jennifer,  however, 
wrote  secretly  to  her  sister,  once  or  twice  a  year, 
and  received  letters  in  reply  through  some  friend. 
The  old  man  never  knew  that  this  was  going  on  until 
he  was  on  his  death-bed  and  relented  somewhat 
for  his  harsh  treatment  of  Annie.  Miss  Jennifer, 
I  understand,  then  confessed  that  they  had  been 
corresponding  and,  not  only  was  the  old  man  eager 
for  news  of  his  younger  daughter,  but  he  made 
Jennifer  promise  that  she  would  go  out  to  Australia 
and  visit  her  sister  as  soon  as  he  was  dead.  Mathew 
Maguire  passed  away — that  was  about  eight  years 
ago,  leaving  everything  to  his  elder  daughter,  who 
paid  the  promised  visit  to  Australia  and  found  her 
sister  in  very  comfortable  circumstances. 

"Miss  Jennifer  was  absent  from  England  for  about 
six  months  and  when  she  returned  she  bought  the 
Villa  Gloria  where  she  has  spent  every  winter  since 
that  time.  Two  or  three  years  after  her  return  from 
Australia  she  heard  that  her  brother-in-law  had 
died  and  that  her  sister  was  carrying  on  the  farm  with 
the  assistance  of  her  husband's  head  man.  About 
eighteen  months  ago  Miss  Jennifer  received  a 
cable  saying  that  her  sister  had  died,  leaving  the 
daughter,  Coral,  practically  penniless.  Miss  Maguire 
at  once  cabled  the  girl's  passage  money  and  instructed 


CHARLES     CARTHEW  ?  139 

her  to  come  to  Marseilles,  where  she  would  be 
met." 

"The  Commissaire  showed  me  a  letter  from 
Mrs.  Trent  to  her  sister,"  said  Martin  Crow.  "  She 
said  that  things  had  turned  out  very  badly  for  them 
and  that  she  did  not  expect  to  live  long  as  she  was 
suffering  from  some  malignant  disease.  She  hoped 
that  her  sister  would  look  after  the  girl." 

"Ah,  Miss  Maguire  did  not  tell  me  about  that 
letter,"  said  Stephen  Chart.  "However,  Coral 
Trent  arrived  early  last  year  and  Miss  Maguire 
apparently,  took  a  great  liking  to  her.  After  leaving 
here  in  the  spring  they  seem  to  have  travelled  about 
a  good  deal  and  did  not  arrive  in  England  until 
the  middle  of  June.  That  was  when  she  called  at 
my  office  and  executed  the  will  which  we  had  pre- 
pared for  her.  They  only  remained  in  London  for 
two  or  three  days  and  then  went  to  Merryfields.  It 
was  while  they  were  there  that  Alan  Berwick,  the 
son  of  a  neighbour,  began  paying  attentions  to  Miss 
Trent.  This  caused  Miss  Maguire  a  great  deal  of 
annoyance,  and  history  once  more  repeated  itself. 
Alan  Berwick  was  given  a  broad  hint,  but  he  did  not 
take  it ;  in  fact  he  told  Miss  Maguire  that  he  was  not 
going  to  allow  her  to  stand  in  the  way  of  his  and 
Coral  Trent's  happiness,  and  that  if  she  persisted 
in  trying  to  keep  them  apart  he  would  take  matters 
into  his  own  hands.  Apparently  Miss  Maguire's 
position  was  made  more  difficult  by  the  fact  that 
Coral  Trent  reciprocated  the  young  man's  affections, 


140          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

and  Miss  Maguire  began  to  doubt  her  ability  to  deal 
with  the  situation." 

"Why  did  she  object  to  the  attachment?"  asked 
Crow. 

"I  was  coming  to  that,"  replied  Stephen  Chart. 
"Miss  Maguire  sent  for  me  and  told  me  that  Alan 
Berwick  was  a  most  undesirable  young  man.  The 
only  thing  that  she  seemed  to  have  against  him  was 
that  he  made  no  serious  attempt  to  work,  and  was 
content  to  lounge  about  on  an  income  of  three  or 
four  hundred  a  year  which  had  been  left  to  him  by 
his  father.  I  fancy  that  Miss  Maguire  imagined 
Berwick  to  be  attracted,  not  by  the  girl  herself, 
but  by  the  money  which  she  would  some  day 
inherit." 

"I  suppose  she  may  have  been  right  on  that 
point?"  Crow  suggested. 

"Very  likely.  I  had  the  greatest  respect  for  Miss 
Maguire's  judgment.  She  had  an  uncanny  way 
of  detecting  any  kind  of  fraud.  She  referred  to  Alan 
Berwick  as  'a  waster,'  but  I  really  do  not  know  that 
such  an  appellation  was  in  any  way  justified.  However, 
she  was  determined  that  they  should  not  marry, 
and  told  me  that  she  was  going  to  make  it  quite 
impossible  for  such  a  thing  to  happen.  She  informed 
me  that  she  had  decided  that  her  niece  should  marry 
Michael  Maguire.  Now  I  knew  that  Michael  was 
already  engaged  to  Miss  Beamish,  with  his  aunt's 
full  approval,  and  I  ventured  to  point  this  out  to  her, 
but  she  brushed  my  observation  aside  with  a  laugh 


CHARLES     CARTHEW?  14! 

and  a  wave  of  her  hand.  She  said  that  she  was  not 
going  to  allow  Miss  Beamish,  or  any  other  girl,  to 
upset  the  plan  which  she  had  made.  It  was  then  that 
she  instructed  me  to  draft  the  will  which  has  never 
been  executed.  She  said  that  there  was  no  urgent 
hurry  for  it  as  Michael  was  working  hard  for  an 
examination  which  he  would  be  taking  in  February, 
and  she  did  not  wish  to  upset  him  before  it  was  over. 
As  soon  as  he  had  sat  for  it  she  would  ask  him  to 
spend  his  holiday  at  the  Villa  Gloria  and  would 
then  tell  him  that  she  wished  him  to  marry  his  cousin." 
"What  an  extraordinary  creature  she  must  have 
been!"  exclaimed  Gerry. 

"She  was,  in  many  ways  most  extraordinary," 
Stephen  Chart  agreed.  "I  could  never  understand 
if  Michael's  exam  was  her  real  reason  for  not  trying 
to  force  the  marriage  at  once.  I  am  almost  inclined 
to  believe  that  she  took  a  delight  in  keeping  Coral 
Trent  and  Alan  Berwick  apart  while  marriage  between 
them  was  still  possible." 

"Something  similar  to  the  cat  and  mouse  game," 
said  Gerry. 

"I'm  afraid  it  was,  Miss  Crow.  When  I  pointed 
out  to  Miss  Maguire  that  she  would  meet  with 
considerable  opposition  from  Michael  she  only 
smiled  and  said  that  since  he  was  entirely  dependent 
upon  her  she  would  easily  overcome  his  objections. 
When  I  realised  that  she  was  determined  I  urged  her 
to  deal  with  the  matter  at  once,  thinking  that  it  would 
be  kinder  to  everyone  concerned,  rather  than  to 


142          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

let  it  drag  on,  but  she  would  not  hear  of  it.  She 
said  that  she  intended  managing  her  affairs  in  her 
own  way  and  did  not  require  advice  except  when  she 
asked  for  it.  She  was  leaving  almost  at  once  for 
Roquebrune  so  as  to  get  Coral  Trent  away  from 
Alan  Berwick.  It  did  not  seem  to  occur  to  her  that 
the  young  man  might  also  spend  the  winter  on  the 
Riviera,  and  I  did  not  suggest  that  he  might  do 
that.  I  took  my  instructions  and  departed,  thankful, 
I  must  admit,  to  get  away  from  the  house.  Now,  I 
wonder  if  I  have  omitted  anything  which  might 
have  an  important  bearing  upon  the  case." 

"Can  you  say  for  a  certainty  that  Miss  Maguire 
had  no  living  relatives  apart  from  Michael  and  Miss 
Trent?"  asked  Crow. 

"It  is  possible,  of  course,  that  there  may  be  some 
distant  cousins  somewhere  scattered  about  the  world, 
but  I  have  never  heard  of  any,  and  I  am  positive 
that  she  has  no  near  relations." 

"In  which  case  we  can  take  it  as  certain  that 
Michael  Maguire  is  her  next-of-kin;  and  after  him, 
Miss  Trent?" 

"Undoubtedly.  But  may  I  ask  why  you  have 
raised  that  question,  Mr.  Crow?" 

"It  was  raised  the  other  day  by  M.  Peille,  the 
Commissaire.  I  told  him  that  it  was  inconceivable 
that  Michael  should  have  destroyed  a  will  by  which 
he  was  going  to  benefit  to  such  a  large  extent,  and 
M.  Peille  pointed  out  that  if  he  were  next-of-kin 
he  would  inherit  everything  if  no  will  was  produced." 


CHARLES     CARTHEW?  143 

"Rather  a  far-fetched  theory,  wasn't  it?"  asked 
the  lawyer. 

"Very  far-fetched,  I  thought,  but  there  it  is,  a 
point  of  view  taken  by  the  French  police." 

"You  don't  think  that  Michael  did  kill  his  aunt, 
do  you,  Mr.  Chart?"  asked  Alison  during  a  lull  in 
the  talk. 

The  lawyer  was  a  little  taken  aback  by  her 
question. 

"No,  Miss  Beamish,  I  do  not,  but  I  cannot  over- 
look the  fact  that  the  most  unlikely  people  have  been 
goaded  into  committing  crimes  of  which  they  would 
ordinarily  be  incapable.  Miss  Maguire  was  the  type 
of  woman  who  would,  I  think,  be  capable  of  ex- 
asperating a  saint.  However,  you  must  not  let  any- 
thing that  I  say  worry  you.  I  know  so  little  about 
the  case.  Your  friend  here,  who  was  once  one  of 
the  greatest  criminal  lawyers  practising  at  the 
English  Bar,  is,  I  know,  confident  that  your  fiance 
is  innocent." 

"I  would  stake  anything  I  possess  upon  his 
innocence,"  declared  Martin  Crow,  vehemently. 
"I  admit  that  we  are  up  against  a  strong  case,  but  it 
is  not  so  strong  that  I  will  not  be  able  to  break  it 
down.  Now,  Mr.  Chart,  I  have  rather  an  important 
question  to  put  to  you.  When  I  was  looking  through 
Miss  Maguire's  pass-book  yesterday  I  saw  that 
during  the  last  twelve  months  she  has  been  making 
quarterly  payments  of  £125  to  someone.  Her  bank 
in  London  has  passed  the  money  to  the  English 


144          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

bank  in  Nice.  Can  you  suggest  anyone  to  whom 
she  might  be  making  an  allowance." 

"I  can't,  Mr.  Crow.  Have  you  made  enquiries 
at  the  Nice  bank?" 

"Not  yet.  I  thought  I  would  talk  to  you  first 
about  it." 

"I  fear  I  cannot  help  you.  It  is  certainly  rather 
significant.  £500  a  year?" 

"Yes." 

"You  might  take  the  matter  up  with  the  bank; 
in  fact  it  is  a  matter  which  perhaps  demands  my 
attention." 

"Then  you  may  feel  disposed  to  come  over  to 
Nice  with  me  in  the  morning?"  asked  Crow. 

"By  all  means.  I  shall  have  to  go  over  there  in 
any  case  to  see  the  Consul  about  the  funeral  arrange- 
ments. It  might  be  wise  to  arm  ourselves  with  a 
formal  request  to  the  bank,  from  him,  that  they 
supply  us  with  all  information  relating  to  Miss 
Maguire's  account." 

"I  think  that  would  be  very  wise,"  said  Crow. 
"I  have  an  appointment  with  the  Commissaire  at 
eleven  and  would  like  to  be  able  to  tell  him  about 
anything  which  we  may  learn  at  the  bank.  Do  you 
mind  starting  early?" 

"At  what  time  do  the  English  banks  open  in  this 
country?" 

"Nine." 

"I  will  be  ready  to  start  at  any  time  you  care  to 
mention,"  said  the  lawyer. 


CHARLES     CARTHEW?  145 

"There  is  a  train  at  half  past  eight.  Shall  we 
get  that?" 

"I  shall  be  ready.  And  now,  if  you  will  excuse  me, 
I  think  I  will  retire.  I  did  not  sleep  very  well  in  the 
train  last  night." 

The  next  morning  Martin  Crow  and  Stephen 
Chart  presented  themselves  at  the  English  bank. 
The  manager  read  the  short  note  which  the  Consul 
had  written  and  then  left  them  for  a  few  minutes. 
When  he  returned  he  was  accompanied  by  a  clerk 
who  carried  a  ledger. 

"We  find  that  the  four  payments  which  interest 
you  were  paid  into  the  account  of  Charles  Carthew," 
the  manager  informed  them. 

"Does  that  name  convey  anything  to  you,  Mr. 
Chart?"  Crow  asked. 

"Nothing  whatever,"  replied  the  lawyer.  "Can 
you  tell  us  anything  about  this  client  of  yours?" 
he  asked  the  manager. 

"He  opened  his  account  on  the  second  of  January 
of  last  year.  What  was  he  like,  Harding,  you  saw 
him  when  he  came  in,  didn't  you?" 

The  clerk  considered  the  question  for  several 
seconds  before  he  answered. 

"  I  should  say  that  he  was  a  man  of  fifty,  or  possibly 
fifty-five,"  he  said  at  length.  "He  has  reddish  hair 
and  rather  a  brusque  manner." 

"Tall,  short,  or  of  medium  height?"  asked 
Crow. 


146          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Medium,  thick-set,  and  he  wears  a  close-cropped 
moustache." 

"When  did  you  see  him  last?"  enquired  Chart. 

"He  was  in  the  bank  last  Saturday  when  he 
cashed  a  cheque  for  two  thousand  francs." 

"Had  you  seen  him  recently  before  that?" 

"Yes,  he  drew  a  cheque  for  fifteen  hundred  about 
three  weeks  ago,  on  March  8th  to  be  exact." 

"Did  he  say  where  he  was  staying?" 

"No,  he  gave  no  address." 

"I  suppose  he  gave  one  when  he  opened  the 
account?"  Stephen  Chart  asked.  The  clerk  referred 
to  the  ledger. 

"Yes,  he  was  staying  at  the  Hotel  Balzac,  here 
in  Nice." 

"Has  he  been  in  and  out  of  the  bank  at  regular 
intervals  since  that  time?" 

"No.  Between  last  March  and  January  of  this 
year  he  drew  cheques  from  time  to  time  through 
our  Paris  office  and  our  branches  at  Deauville, 
Le  Touquet  and  Vichy." 

"Would  you  please  tell  us  how  his  account  stands 
at  the  moment?"  the  lawyer  asked. 

"There  is  a  credit  balance  of  £27  IDS.  4d." 

"May  I  suggest,"  said  Chart,  addressing  the 
manager,  "that  if  this  man  should  come  into  the 
bank  again  you  inform  the  British  Consulate  and 
detain  him  on  some  pretext." 

"Is  he  suspected  of  being  concerned  with  this 
case  which  the  Consul  mentions  in  his  letter?" 


CHARLES    CARTHEW?  147 

"I  think  that  it  is  important  that  the  police  should 
have  an  opportunity  to  question  him,"  said  Martin 
Crow.  "I  am  going  to  see  the  Commissaire  now,  and 
perhaps  you  would  like  me  to  ask  him  to  make  a 
formal  request  that  you  detain  him." 

"Yes,  I  think  that  would  be  a  good  plan, 
gentlemen." 

Martin  Crow  and  Stephen  Chart  thanked  the 
manager  and  took  their  departure.  They  turned 
towards  the  Promenade  des  Anglais  and  paused  at 
the  corner  where  they  stood  for  a  few  minutes 
watching  the  crowds  of  people  lounging  in  the 
deck  chairs  on  the  other  side  of  the  roadway.  It  was 
a  warm,  summer-like  morning,  with  a  cloudless  sky 
and  a  light  breeze  blowing  gently  from  the  south-west. 

"Well,  Mr.  Crow,  how  much  of  that  information 
is  going  to  help  you,"  asked  the  lawyer. 

"I  don't  know,"  replied  Crow,  "but  I  fancy  that 
it  may  prove  to  be  the  key  to  our  problem.  You  are 
going  back  to  the  Consulate,  aren't  you?  I  shall 
pay  a  visit  to  the  Hotel  Balzac  and  see  if  I  can  learn 
anything  there;  then  I  shall  go  to  see  the  Com- 
missaire. Will  you  give  me  the  pleasure  of  your 
company  at  luncheon  at,  say,  one  o'clock?" 

"I  shall  be  delighted.    Where  shall  we  meet?" 

"Shall  we  say  in  the  lounge  of  the  Hotel  Ruhl?" 

"Where  is  that?" 

"You  are  standing  with  your  back  to  the  entrance  of 
the  hotel  at  this  moment,"  replied  Martin  Crow 
with  a  smile. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

MARTIN   CROW  EXPERIMENTS 

THE  Hotel  Balzac  is  situated  in  one  of  those 
pleasant  little  streets  which  lead  out  of  the 
Avenue  Victor  Hugo.  It  was  a  small,  unpretentious 
hotel  where  full  pension  terms  were  offered  for  the 
equivalent  of  about  eight  shillings  a  day.  Martin 
Crow  asked  the  concierge  if  Mr.  Charles  Carthew 
was  in,  and  was  told,  as  he  expected,  that  no  one 
of  that  name  was  staying  there.  In  answer  to  further 
questions,  the  man  in  the  desk  referred  to  the 
register  and  found  that  Mr.  Carthew  had  arrived 
at  the  hotel,  from  Paris,  on  March  ist,  and  had  left 
again  two  days  later,  saying  that  he  was  going  into 
Italy.  No,  he  had  left  no  address  to  which  letters 
could  be  forwarded. 

"I  think  that  he  was  also  staying  here  last  year," 
Crow  said.  "In  January."  The  concierge  consulted 
the  register  again.  "  He  may  have  arrived  before  that." 

"Yes,  Monsieur,  he  came  from  Marseilles  on 
December  zoth,  and  left  on  January  5th." 

"Do  you  know  where  he  went  on  that  occasion?" 

"No,  sir,  I  was  not  here  then,  and  there  is  no  note 
in  the  book." 

Martin  Crow  thanked  the  man,  and  made  his  way 
along  the  Avenue  de  la  Victoire,  where  he  entered 

148 


MARTIN     CROW     EXPERIMENTS  149 

a  small  shop  and  bought  a  tennis  ball.  He  then 
walked  along  to  the  Prefecture  and  asked  for  M.  Peille. 
The  Commissaire  received  him  almost  immediately. 

"Good  morning,  M.  Crow,  you  have  come  to 
see  the  photographs  of  the  candlestick,  no?" 

"Yes,  but  before  you  show  them  to  me  I  should 
very  much  like  to  see  M.  Maguire  in  your  presence 
for  a  few  minutes.  You  have  no  objection?" 

"Of  course  not." 

M.  Peille  rang  a  bell,  which  was  answered  by  a 
clerk,  who  was  ordered  to  give  instructions  for 
M.  Maguire  to  be  brought  up  to  the  Commissaire's 
room  at  once. 

"I  am  going  to  ask  him  to  do  several  things, 
M.  Peille,"  said  Crow  as  soon  as  the  clerk  had  gone 
out  of  the  room,  "and  I  shall  be  obliged  if  you  will 
kindly  notice  very  carefully  how  he  does  them. 
This  is  a  matter  of  considerable  importance." 

"This  sounds  interesting  and  a  little  mysterious, 
M.  Crow,"  said  the  police  chief  with  a  smile.  "Will 
you  not  tell  me  a  little  more  of  what  is  in  your 
mind?" 

"For  the  moment,  with  your  permission,  I  will 
say  no  more,"  replied  Crow.  "Afterwards,  when 
we  are  alone  again  I  shall  have  a  great  deal  to  say." 

They  discussed  the  weather,  the  number  of  people 
on  the  Riviera,  and  were  commenting  upon  the 
political  situation  in  Europe  when  Michael  entered 
the  room  followed  by  a  gendarme.  He  smiled 
cheerfully  as  he  saw  Martin  Crow. 


150          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Have  you  discovered  anything  yet?"  he  asked 
eagerly. 

"I  have  discovered  many  things  since  I  last 
saw  you  and " 

"What?  How  soon  are  you  going  to  get  me  out 
of  this  beastly  hole?" 

"My  dear  fellow,  no  one  appreciates  your  feelings 
more  than  I  do,  and  while  I  can  assure  you  that  I 
am  very  well  satisfied  with  the  results  of  my  enquiries, 
I  cannot  hold  out  any  hope  that  you  will  be  liberated 
just  yet.  You  have  seen  Maitre  Corbin  recently?" 

"He  was  here  for  an  hour  yesterday,  but  I  haven't 
much  faith  in  him.  It  is  on  you  that  I  am  counting, 
Mr.  Crow." 

"I  am  touched  by  your  faith  in  me,  Maguire,  and 
I  hope  that  you  will  not  have  cause  to  be  disappointed 
in  me.  I  do  not  think  you  will.  Now,  I  am  going 
to  ask  you  to  do  several  things  which  you  may 
consider  a  little  strange  under  the  circumstances, 
but  I  wish  you  to  do  them  without  question,  and  as 
naturally  as  possible.  First  of  all  will  you  please 
sign  your  name  on  this  piece  of  paper?  You  have 
a  pen?" 

Michael  took  a  fountain  pen  from  his  pocket  and 
wrote  his  name. 

"Now  write  it  with  your  left  hand,"  said  Crow, 
who  at  once  translated  his  order  into  French. 

"Good  Lord!    But  I  don't  think  I  can." 

"Try,  my  dear  fellow,  and  do  your  very  best, 
because  much  may  depend  upon  how  you  do  it." 


MARTIN     CROW     EXPERIMENTS  151 

Michael  made  the  effort,  with  a  result  which 
was  not  very  satisfactory. 

"Now  take  this  pencil  and  try  to  draw  a  square, 
first  with  your  right  and  then  with  your  left  hand." 

M.  Peille  was  watching  with  the  keenest  interest, 
and  smiled  when  Michael  turned  out  a  strange 
figure  when  he  transferred  the  pencil  to  his  left 
hand. 

"That's  pretty  ghastly,"  the  young  man  said. 

"Never  mind.  Now  will  you  go  over  there  and 
stand  by  the  door?"  Crow  said.  "I  have  here  a 
ball.  I  am  going  to  throw  it  to  you,  and  I  want  you 
to  catch  it  and  throw  it  back." 

Michael  looked  very  perplexed,  but  did  as  he  was 
told  without  asking  any  questions. 

"And  now,"  said  Crow,  handing  him  his  walking 
stick,  "I  want  you  to  imagine  that  this  is  either  a 
cricket  bat  or  a  golf  club.  Show  me  how  you  would 
play  a  stroke."  This  was  translated  for  M.  Peille' s 
benefit. 

Michael  smiled  and  took  up  a  stance  as  if  he  were 
about  to  drive  a  ball  from  a  tee,  and  then  swung 
the  stick. 

"Only  one  more  experiment,"  said  Crow.  "Take 
this  ball  and  try  to  pitch  it  with  your  left  hand  so 
that  it  falls  at  my  feet.  I  will  stand  as  far  away  from 
you  as  possible." 

Michael  threw  the  ball,  but  it  shot  across  the  room 
and  did  not  land  within  three  or  four  yards  of  Crow's 
feet. 


152          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Thank  you.    You  have  helped  me  very  much." 

"But  how?    What's  the  game?"  Michael  asked. 

"For  the  present  I  must  ask  you  to  restrain 
your  very  natural  curiosity.  I  will  tell  you  this, 
however,  these  little  tests  which  I  have  been  giving 
you  have  proved  a  theory  and  should  go  a  long  way 
towards  establishing  your  innocence.  How  are  you 
getting  on?  Is  it  terribly  uncomfortable?" 

"Not  too  bad.    The  food's  a  bit  rough." 

"M.  Peille,  is  there  any  reason  why  M.  Maguire 
should  not  have  one  meal  sent  in  each  day  from  a 
restaurant?"  Crow  asked. 

The  Commissaire  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and 
made  a  grimace  which  was  intended  to  express  his 
regrets. 

"I  am  sorry,  M.  Crow,  but  it  is  not  permitted  in 
cases  of  such  importance." 

"The  Commissaire  says  that  it  is  not  allowed," 
Crow  told  Michael,  "but  I  have  something  of 
considerable  importance  to  say  to  him  and  it  is 
possible  that  I  may  persuade  him  to  reconsider 
his  decision.  If  he  does  I  will  see  that  you  get  a 
decent  meal  sent  in  each  day." 

"That  is  awfully  good  of  you,  Mr.  Crow." 

"You  have  any  books?" 

"No,  a  French  paper  is  all  that  I  see." 

"You  have  no  objection  to  his  having  papers 
and  books,  M.  Peille?" 

"But  no,  provided  they  are  inspected  first,  of 
course." 


MARTIN     CROW     EXPERIMENTS  153 

"That  is  understood.  All  right,  Maguire.  Don't 
despair.  I  am  afraid  it  may  be  three  or  four  weeks 
before  we  get  you  out  of  this,  but  I  am  confident 
that  it  is  only  a  matter  of  time.  As  soon  as  I  can 
come  along  with  pretty  strong  evidence  against 
someone  else  you  won't  remain  here  much  longer." 

"But  if  you  don't?" 

"I  have  sworn  to  myself  that  I  shall,"  replied 
Martin  Crow,  with  perfect  confidence,  "so  keep  your 
spirits  up." 

"I'm  frightfully  grateful  to  you,  sir.  How's 
Alison?" 

"Splendid.  You  need  not  worry  about  her.  We 
are  taking  the  greatest  care  of  her.  I  will  ask  M.  Peille 
if  I  may  bring  her  to  see  you  to-morrow." 

The  Commissaire  gave  his  consent,  and  when 
Michael  had  gone  out  of  the  room  he  turned  to  Crow 
and  said, 

"Well,  and  may  I  ask  why  you  play  a  game  of 
ball  with  the  accused?" 

"You  were  watching?" 

"But  yes.    All  the  time." 

"And  did  you  notice  anything  special  about  the 
way  in  which  he  did  everything?" 

"No,  I  cannot  say  I  noticed  anything  special. 
Why?" 

"He  used  his  right  hand,  M.  Peille,  and  when  I 
asked  him  to  do  things  with  his  left  he  was  like  a 
child.  You  could  not  read  his  name;  the  square 
which  I  asked  him  to  draw  looked  like  some  queer 


154          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

insect;  and  the  ball,  instead  of  dropping  at  my  feet, 
went  behind  your  desk." 

"But  I  do  not  understand,  M.  Crow.  That  was 
only  natural.  I  should  have  been  surprised  if  he  had 
used  his  left  hand." 

"Exactly,  but  you  see,  I  am  convinced  that  Mile. 
Maguire  was  struck  by  a  left-handed  person." 

The  Commissaire  stared  at  Crow  and  opened  his 
mouth  wide. 

"But  .  .  .  but  how  can  you  possibly  think 
that?" 

Martin  Crow  sat  down  and  faced  M.  Peille  across 
the  desk. 

"  I  want  you  to  consider  those  photographs  of  the 
body,"  he  said,  "and  to  take  special  note  of  the  exact 
position  of  the  wound." 

The  Commissaire  opened  a  drawer,  found  the 
three  photographs  and  laid  them  out  before  him. 

"Voila!"  he  exclaimed.  Then  he  shook  his  head. 
"But  I  do  not  understand  what  is  in  your  mind, 
M.  Crow." 

"I  will  explain.  Your  case  is  that  Michael  Maguire 
entered  the  room,  half  an  hour  or  more  after  his 
quarrel  with  his  aunt,  picked  up  the  candlestick 
and  struck  her  a  violent  blow  on  the  right  side  of 
the  head." 

"Yes,  yes,  that  is  so." 

"Now,  as  he  entered  the  room  she  was  sitting  with 
her  back  to  him?" 

"Yes." 


MARTIN     CROW     EXPERIMENTS  155 

"And  he  must  have  been  facing  her,  across  the 
writing-table,  before  he  could  have  inflicted  that 
wound?" 

"Yes,  that  is  reasonable.  The  police  surgeon  gave 
the  opinion  that  the  blow  was  struck  from  the  front 
and  not  from  behind." 

"Now  I  assume  that  he  passed  round  on  Mile. 
Maguire's  left  because  that  would  have  been  the 
easiest  way  to  go  from  the  door.  The  standard 
lamp  would  have  been  a  little  in  his  way  if  he  had 
gone  to  her  right." 

"What  you  say  is  possibly  correct,  but  I  do  not 
think  that  it  matters  whether  he  went  to  the  right 
or  the  left." 

"With  due  deference  to  your  opinion,  M.  Peille, 
I  think  that  it  may  matter  a  great  deal.  However 
for  the  moment  we  will  leave  that  point.  Now, 
imagine  him  arrived  at  the  other  side  of  the  desk 
and  facing  his  aunt ;  according  to  your  case  he  wished 
to  kill  her  and  decided  that  he  would  hit  her  over 
the  temple,  the  weakest  part  of  the  skull.  Now 
wouldn't  you  have  expected  a  right-handed  man 
to  have  seized  the  candlestick  on  his  right?" 

The  point  interested  the  Commissaire,  and  he 
considered  it  for  a  minute  before  replying. 

"In  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  and  with  his 
brain  deranged  by  the  contemplation  of  the  terrible 
deed  he  was  about  to  commit,  I  think  that  he  might 
have  taken  up  either  candlestick." 

"I  must  disagree  with  you  entirely,  M.  Peille," 


156          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

cried  Martin  Crow,  excitedly.  "If  he  was  slightly 
unbalanced  at  the  moment  as  you  suggest,  I  submit 
that  that  was  all  the  more  reason  why  he  would  have 
done  the  easiest  thing ;  that  is  he  would,  instinctively, 
have  taken  up  the  candlestick  which  was  nearest 
to  his  right  hand." 

"I  am  sorry,  M.  Crow,  but  I  cannot  allow  that. 
I  repeat  that  I  think  he  might  have  taken  up  either 
candlestick." 

"Very  well,  M.  Peille,  we  will  leave  that  for  the 
moment  and  suppose  that  he  seized  the  left  hand 
candlestick  with  his  right  hand.  Now  the  blow 
which  must,  inevitably,  have  been  struck  would 
have  been  an  oblique  one,  and  I  should  have  expected 
the  rim  of  the  candlestick  to  have  made  an  almost 
vertical  wound.  But  it  did  not  do  that.  You  can 
see  it  in  the  photograph.  It  is  almost  horizontal, 
which  is  consistent  with  the  blow  having  been 
dealt  with  the  left  hand." 

M.  Peille  rubbed  his  chin  thoughtfully  and  gazed 
at  the  photograph. 

"That  is  a  very  fine  point,  M.  Crow,"  he  said  after 
a  few  moments. 

"Upon  which  a  young  man's  life,  or  at  any  rate 
his  whole  career,  may  depend." 

There  was  a  short  silence,  and  then  the  Com- 
missaire  looked  up  and  said, 

"I  admit  that  there  is  reason  in  what  you  said 
about  the  angle  at  which  the  wound  lies,  but  I  do 
not  admit  that  such  a  wound  could  not  have  been 


MARTIN     CROW     EXPERIMENTS  157 

made  by  a  right-handed  blow.  Suppose  that  Mile. 
Maguire  had  suddenly  turned  her  head  to  the  left, 
at  the  moment  when  the  blow  was  struck;  that 
would  have  made  all  the  difference  to  the  angle  of 
the  wound." 

"Possibly,  M.  Peille,  quite  possibly;  but  can  you 
honestly  imagine  her  head  being  turned  to  the  left? 
Even  if  she  had  turned  it  momentarily,  to  look  at 
something  at  the  side  of  the  table,  or  in  one  of  the 
drawers ;  she  must  have  become  aware  of  impending 
danger.  She  would  have  heard  a  sudden  and  quick 
movement;  or  have  seen  a  hand  raised  and  grasping 
the  candlestick;  and  she  would  have  turned  her 
head  back  and  faced  her  assailant.  However,  the 
day  before  yesterday  I  consulted  Dr.  Aristide 
Journet  who,  you  will  probably  agree,  is  a  man  whose 
opinion  cannot  be  lightly  dismissed." 

"We  have  the  greatest  respect  for  the  opinions  of 
Dr.  Journet,"  agreed  the  Commissaire.  "And  what 
did  he  say,  M.  Crow?" 

Martin  Crow  took  the  doctor's  report  from  his 
pocket  and  handed  it  to  M.  Peille. 

"May  I  trouble  you  to  read  what  he  has  written?" 
he  said. 

The  Commissaire's  eyebrows  contracted  as  he 
read  the  report. 

"Yes,  yes,  my  dear  M.  Crow;  I  admit  that  your 
theory  has  reason,"  he  said  with  a  smile,  "but  as  a 
celebrated  lawyer,  with  many  years  of  experience 
with  criminal  cases,  you  will  understand  that  we 


158          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

must  accept  such  things  with  caution.  Dr.  Journet, 
you  observe,  is  not  prepared  to  state  definitely  that 
a  left-handed  blow  was  struck." 

"No  one  could  do  that  unless  he  had  been  an 
eye-witness." 

"Well,  I  am  prepared  to  bear  your  theory  in 
mind,  M.  Crow.  May  I  ask  what,  in  your  opinion, 
actually  took  place  in  that  room  on  the  night  of  the 
murder?" 

"Before  I  trouble  you,  M.  Peille,  with  any  more 
of  my  theories  may  I  see  the  photographs  of  the 
candlestick?" 

"But  yes;  I  was  forgetting;  and  I  was  unfortunately 
out  when  you  called  yesterday,  or  was  it  the  day 
before,  yes,  to  be  sure,  the  day  before."  The  Com- 
missaire  had  taken  a  large  envelope  from  one  of  the 
drawers  of  his  desk.  "Here  you  are,  four  of  them 
taken  from  different  positions." 

Martin  Crow  took  the  photographs  eagerly  and 
after  a  few  seconds  a  look  of  keen  disappointment 
came  into  his  eyes.  He  had  hoped  that  the  position 
of  the  marks  might  have  shown  clearly  whether  a 
right  or  left  hand  had  been  used;  but  there  was 
such  a  confusion  of  marks  that  only  two  stood  out 
clearly,  and  they  were  not  in  the  least  helpful." 

"Thank  you,"  he  said,  as  he  handed  back  the 
photographs.  "It  is  obvious  that  it  was  handled 
more  than  was  necessary  for  striking  the  blow." 

The  Commissaire  nodded  and  returned  the 
envelope  to  his  drawer. 


MARTIN     CROW     EXPERIMENTS  159 

"Now,  M.  Crow,  perhaps  you  will  tell  me  what, 
in  your  opinion,  happened." 

"Either  the  murderer  concealed  himself  in  the 
salon  early  in  the  evening,  and  entered  by  the  glass 
doors  separating  the  library  from  the  salon,  or  he 
came  through  the  window  from  the  terrace." 

"But  the  windows  were  fastened." 

"How  do  you  know  that,  M.  Peille?" 

"We  have  the  testimony  of  both  the  accused  and 
Boughton." 

"Not  the  accused,  M.  le  Commissaire." 

"But  he  told  us  that  Boughton  went  across  to  the 
windows  and  found  them  fastened." 

"No,  Monsieur;  he  told  us  that  the  butler  said 
that  they  were  fastened.  That  is  entirely  different." 

"You  accuse  Boughton  of  having  lied?" 

"I  say  that  we  have  no  proof  that  the  windows 
were  closed  and  fastened  when  the  murder  was 
committed." 

"Then  why  should  Boughton  have  said  that  they 
were?" 

"That  is  a  question  which  I  cannot  answer  at 
the  moment,  but  I  am  going  to  make  it  my  business 
to  discover  if  he  was  telling  the  truth  or  lying." 

"You  suspect  him  of  having  murdered  Mile. 
Maguire?" 

"Frankly  I  don't;  but  I  shall  be  greatly  surprised 
if  I  am  not  able  to  prove  that  he  knows  a  great  deal 
more  about  the  crime  than  he  has  told  us." 

"You  have  talked  to  him?" 


j6o          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Yes,  with  M.  Chart  yesterday  afternoon." 

"And  you  were  not  satisfied  with  his  replies  to 
your  questions?" 

"His  replies  were  remarkably  clear  and  ready, 
but  I  gained  the  impression  that  he  was  not  telling 
us  everything.  However,  we  will  leave  him  for  the 
moment.  I  have  a  favour  to  ask." 

"I  am  at  your  service,  M.  Crow." 

"I  want  you  to  help  me  to  get  in  touch  with  a 
man  named  Charles  Carthew." 

"Charles  Carthew.   Who  is  he?" 

"That  is  what  I  want  to  know.  If  you  can  find 
him  I  believe  that  we  shall  very  soon  know  who 
killed  Mile.  Maguire." 

The  Commissaire  paused  in  the  act  of  lighting  a 
cigarette  and  looked  at  Martin  Crow  over  the  flaming 
match. 

"You  think  that  he  may  be  the  murderer?"  he 
asked. 

"It  is  possible,  but  I  believe  that  he  could,  at  any 
rate,  tell  us  something." 

M.  Peille  swore  as  the  match  burnt  his  fingers. 
He  struck  another  and  when  he  had  lighted  the 
cigarette,  leant  forward  with  his  elbows  resting  upon 
the  desk. 

"You  must  understand,  M.  Crow,"  he  said, 
speaking  firmly,  but  in  a  friendly  tone,  "that  it  is 
most  unusual  for  us  to  occupy  ourselves  with  the 
theories  and  suggestions  which  are  put  forward  by 
the  friends  of  accused  persons.  If  we  did  that  we 


MARTIN     CROW     EXPERIMENTS  l6l 

should  never  get  through  our  work.  This  case, 
however,  is  a  little  different  from  most  with  which 
we  have  to  deal.  In  the  first  place  an  Englishman 
of  good  family  is  concerned,  and  we  are  most  anxious 
to  avoid  doing  anything  which  might  cause  any 
ill-feeling  between  the  two  countries.  Then  your 
own  interest  in  the  case  lends  considerable  weight 
to  the  theory  that  M.  Maguire  had  been  the  unfortun- 
ate victim  of  circumstances." 

"You  honour  me,  M.  Peille." 

"I  have  the  greatest  respect  for  your  judgment, 
M.  Crow,  and  I  know  that  you  would  not  ask  me  to 
do  anything  unless  you  had  very  good  reasons  for 
doing  so.  On  the  other  hand  your  little  demonstra- 
tion with  the  ball  and  the  stick,  and  the  pen  and  pencil 
has  by  no  means  convinced  me  that  M.  Maguire  was 
not  concerned  with  the  death  of  his  aunt.  I  cannot 
overlook  the  fact  that  he  was  faced  with  destitution 
unless  he  complied  with  his  aunt's  wishes.  He  had 
every  reason  for  desiring  her  death,  and  if  he  was 
not  responsible  for  it,  it  is  a  most  extraordinary 
coincidence  that  it  should  have  taken  place  when  it 
did,  at  the  very  moment,  almost,  when  it  would 
solve  all  his  difficulties  for  him.  You  will,  I  am 
sure,  admit  that  we  know  of  no  one  else  who  benefited 
in  any  way  by  her  death." 

"At  the  moment  we  do  not  know  that,  M. 
Peille." 

"Ah,  you  think  that  you  may  discover  someone 
who  might  have  benefited?" 


162          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"That  is  one  reason  why  I  wish  to  find  Charles 
Carthew." 

"But  who  is  he." 

"Someone  to  whom  Mile.  Maguire  has  been 
making  quarterly  payments  of  £125  during  the 
past  year." 

"M.  Chart  can  tell  you  nothing  about  him?" 

"Nothing." 

The  Commissaire  remained  silent  for  half  a  minute. 

"Is  there  any  reason  why  there  should  be  any 
connection  between  those  payments  and  the  crime?" 
he  asked. 

"No,  but  there  is  always  the  possibility  that  there 
is,  and  it  is  a  point  which  I  wish  to  investigate." 

"He  may  be  an  old  servant?"  suggested  the 
Commissaire. 

"I  do  not  think  that  Mile.  Maguire  would  have 
been  so  generous  to  an  old  servant.  Moreover,  I 
should  not  have  expected  such  a  person  to  receive 
the  money  through  the  English  bank  here,  at 
Nice." 

"Ah,  it  was  paid  to  the  bank  here?" 

Martin  Crow  related  all  that  he  had  been  told  by 
the  bank  officials  and  by  the  concierge  at  the  Hotel 
Balzac. 

"It  is  interesting,  yes,  it  is  interesting,  I  admit," 
said  M.  Peille.  "You  think,  then,  that  Charles 
Carthew  may  have  visited  the  Villa  Gloria  on  the 
night  of  the  murder?" 

"Quite  possibly." 


MARTIN     CROW     EXPERIMENTS  163 

"In  which  case  the  finger-print  on  the  window 
might  be  his?" 

"That  is  more  than  likely." 

"There  is  nothing  to  indicate  where  we  might 
start  making  enquiries  for  him?" 

"I'm  afraid  not.  I  suggest  that  with  the  assistance 
of  your  colleagues  along  the  coast,  you  comb  out  all 
the  small  hotels  and  Pensions." 

"It  shall  be  done,  M.  Crow,"  said  the  Commissaire 
as  Martin  got  up  to  go.  "I  have  here  the  description 
of  him." 

"I  thank  you.  And  now  one  more  question,  will 
you  permit  me  to  bring  M.  Maguire's  fiancee  over 
to  see  him  to-morrow  for  a  few  minutes?" 

"By  all  means!  If  I  am  not  here  I  will  leave 
instructions  that  they  can  meet;  in  the  presence  of 
a  gendarme,  of  course." 

"That  is  understood,"  said  Crow,  as  he  offered 
the  Commissaire  his  hand. 


CHAPTER  XV 

AN   EAVESDROPPER 

THE  day  had  been  unusually  warm  for  the  time 
of  year,  and  with  the  change  to  summer-time 
dinner  was  being  served  in  the  garden  at  the  Pension 
Mireille.  From  one  of  the  mimosa  trees  there  came 
the  incessant  song  of  a  cigale,  as  if  in  accompaniment 
to  the  chorus  of  the  frogs  giving  their  evening 
concert  from  the  concrete  water  tanks  on  the  neigh- 
bouring terraces.  The  cloudless  sky  was  deepening 
to  a  rich  purple  and  a  full  moon  was  rising  over 
the  Mediterranean,  a  little  to  the  right  of  Cap 
Martin. 

"Yes,  my  dear  Alison,  I  saw  your  Michael  this 
morning  and  I  have  arranged  with  M.  Peille  for  you 
to  see  him  to-morrow."  . 

"Was  he  looking  well,  and  was  he  fairly  cheer- 
ful?" 

"He  was  remarkably  cheerful  and  seemed  to  be 
in  the  best  of  health,"  Crow  answered.  "I  am 
afraid  I  rather  mystified  him  by  making  a  little 
experiment;  but  I  will  tell  you  about  that  later  on. 
I  want  to  hear  first  what  the  Commissaire  said  to 
you  two  girls.  Where  and  when  did  you  meet 
him?" 

164 


AN     EAVESDROPPER  165 

"As  we  were  returning  from  Mentone  after  tea," 
Gerry  replied.  "He  was  coming  out  of  the  Villa 
Gloria,  and  seemed  to  be  very  worried  about  some- 
thing. He  rather  surprised  us  by  asking  if  we  had 
any  theories." 

"And  what  did  you  tell  him,  my  dear?" 

"I  said  that  I  had  none  except  that  I  was  certain 
that  Michael  was  innocent,"  replied  Alison.  "Gerry 
startled  him  by  asking  if  he  had  taken  Alan  Berwick's 
finger-prints.  He  wanted  to  know  what  he  had  to 
do  with  the  case." 

Martin  Crow  smiled. 

"I  fear  that  the  estimable  M.  Peille  lacks  imagina- 
tion and  vision,"  he  said.  "Of  course  the  trouble 
is  that  he  and  the  examining  magistrate  are  so  certain 
that  Michael  is  the  murderer  that  they  are  blind  to 
all  else.  What  did  you  tell  him,  Gerry?" 

"I  suggested  that  he  should  compare  Alan's 
finger-prints  with  the  one  that  I  found  on  the  library 
window  at  the  villa." 

Both  Martin  Crow  and  Stephen  Chart  looked 
surprised. 

"Does  that  mean  that  you  suspect  Berwick  of 
having  committed  the  crime?"  asked  the  lawyer, 
addressing  Gerry. 

"I  think  that  he  is  as  likely  to  have  done  it  as 
anyone  else,  more  likely,  perhaps,"  she  replied.  "I 
wonder  if  it  has  occurred  to  anyone  to  find  out  what 
he  was  doing  on  Tuesday  night?" 

"I  admit  that  his  movements  have  not  interested 


l66          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

me,  so  far,"  said  Crow.  "And  I  don't  suppose  for 
one  moment  that  the  Commissaire  has  thought  of 
interrogating  him." 

"I  think  that  you  should  question  him,  Father," 
said  Gerry. 

"Perhaps  I  should,  but  to  tell  you  the  truth  I  am 
far  more  interested  in  an  individual  named  Charles 
Carthew,  and  I  have  been  devoting  my  energies  to 
making  enquiries  about  him,  and  getting  expert 
opinion  on  my  theory  that  the  fatal  blow  was  struck 
by  a  left-handed  man." 

"You  really  have  grounds  for  supposing  that?" 
asked  Stephen  Chart. 

"I  have,  unquestionably,"  replied  Crow,  "but  I 
have  not  yet  been  able  to  convince  M.  Peille." 

"What  evidence  have  you?" 

"I  base  my  conclusions  on  the  shape  and  position 
of  the  wound,  and  the  position  in  which  the  body 
was  found.  I  am  positive  that  the  murderer  was 
standing  on  the  other  side  of  the  writing-table, 
facing  Miss  Maguire,  and  that  he  took  up  the  candle- 
stick on  his  left  with  his  left  hand,  and  dealt  a  straight 
blow.  Apart  from  the  fact  that  I  do  not  think  a  right- 
handed  man  would  have  stretched  across  to  the  left 
side  of  the  table  for  the  candlestick,  a  blow  struck 
with  the  right  h^nd  would  have  fallen  at  a  different 
angle.  I " 

Their  talk  was  interrupted  by  Mile.  Antoinette, 
who  came  out  to  say  that  M.  Berwick  wished  to  see 
M.  Crow  at  once.  They  had  almost  finished  their 


AN     EAVESDROPPER  167 

meal  and  Crow  asked  the  girl  to  bring  the  visitor 
out.  A  few  moments  later  Alan,  looking  white  and 
agitated,  came  quickly  across  to  the  arbour.  He  gave 
them  each  a  swift  glance  and  then  said, 

"Could  I  speak  to  you  privately,  Mr.  Crow?" 

Martin  Crow  looked  round  the  garden  which  was 
now  deserted  except  for  themselves. 

"By  all  means,"  he  said,  getting  up.  "Let  us  go 
across  to  those  chairs  at  the  other  end  of  the 
terrace."  Alan  followed  him.  He  remained  standing 
when  Crow  had  seated  himself. 

"I  have  come  to  ask  your  advice,"  he  said,  ner- 
vously, and  glancing  about  him  as  if  he  feared  that 
he  might  be  overheard.  "A  couple  of  hours  ago  the 
Inspector,  or  whatever  he  calls  himself,  from  the 
Gendarmerie  along  the  road,  came  and  asked  to 
take  my  finger-prints." 

"Well?" 

"What  the  devil's  the  game?" 

"Suppose  you  sit  down,  my  dear  fellow,  and  try 
to  calm  yourself,"  said  Crow  as  he  indicated  a  chair 
opposite  to  his  own.  Alan  sat  down. 

"Calm  myself!"  he  exclaimed.  "That's  all  very 
well,  but  I'm  not  used  to  this  sort  of  thing.  Why 
should  they  want  my  finger-prints?" 

"Having  been  a  great  friend  of  Miss  Maguire; 
and  having  been  in  and  out  of  her  villa,  I  think  that 
we  may  regard  it  as  a  matter  of  routine  work  on  the 
part  of  the  Commissaire,"  said  Crow.  "He  of  course 


l68          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

took  the  finger-prints  of  Miss  Trent  and  all  the 
servants." 

"Does  he  imagine  that  he's  going  to  find  evidence 
that  I  handled  that  candlestick?" 

"I  think  not.  The  marks  found  on  the  candlestick 
were,  unquestionably,  made  by  Michael  Maguire, 
who  admits  that  he  was  fingering  it  while  he  was 
talking  to  his  aunt." 

"I  suppose  it's  pretty  certain  that  he  did  kill 
her?" 

"On  the  contrary,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  it  is 
certain  that  he  did  not." 

"Who  did,  then?" 

"Ah!  That  is  what  I  should  very  much  like  to 
know." 

"Do  you  suspect  anyone?" 

"Yes,  I  do." 

"Who?" 

"The  person  who  left  a  finger-print  on  the  outside 
of  the  library  window,"  said  Martin  Crow,  speaking 
very  slowly  and  keeping  his  eyes  fixed  upon  Alan's 
face.  He  saw  the  young  man  start.  The  movement 
was  only  slight  and  in  a  moment  he  had  completely 
recovered  his  composure.  "Tell  me,  Berwick,  how 
much  have  you  seen  of  Miss  Maguire  during  the  last 
month  or  six  weeks?" 

"What's  that  got  to  do  with  the  case?" 

"Look  here,"  said  Crow,  speaking  sharply,  "you 
said  just  now  that  you  had  come  to  ask  my  advice." 

"Yes,  I  did." 


AN     EAVESDROPPER  169 

"Then  let  me  tell  you  that  there  is  one  person  in 
Roquebrime  who  does  not  consider  you  to  be  alto- 
gether above  suspicion." 

"What?  Suspects  me  of  having  killed  Miss 
Maguire?"  Alan  cried. 

"My  dear  fellow,  do  please  try  to  keep  calm." 

"Calm,  when  you  are  told  that  you  are  suspected 
of  being  a  murderer." 

"I  did  not  say  that.  As  far  as  I  know  no  one 
suspects  you  of  having  killed  Miss  Maguire,  and  I, 
for  one,  do  not  think  that  you  have  the  courage  to 
kill  anything,  but  you  are  certainly  suspected  of  being 
in  some  way  concerned  with  her  death." 

"My  God!   You  think  that?" 

"To  be  candid,  I  don't;  but  as  I  have  told  you, 
I  know  someone  who  does." 

"Who?   The  Commissaire  over  at  Nice?" 

"I  shall  mention  no  names,  but  I  should  like  to 
warn  you  that  if  you  have  nothing  to  conceal  it  will 
probably  be  in  your  interests  to  answer  my  questions 
frankly.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  something 
which  you  wish  to  keep  dark,  I  advise  you  to  get  up 
and  go.  I  say  that  because  I  am  not  going  to  rest 
until  I  have  proved  that  Michael  Maguire  did  not 
murder  his  aunt;  and  in  doing  that  I  shall  probably 
prove  who  did." 

Alan  Berwick  remained  silent.  He  sat  with  his 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  broad  path  of  the  moon's  reflec- 
tion which  stretched  from  the  shore  almost  to  the 
horizon.  Crow  could  see  that  his  lips  were  quivering. 


170          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

He  was  clasping  and  unclasping  his  hands  in- 
cessantly. 

"I  wonder  if  you  would  like  to  tell  me  what  is  the 
exact  position  between  Coral  Trent  and  yourself?" 
Crow  asked  presently. 

"We  are  friends,"  Alan  replied  without  moving. 

"Nothing  more?" 

"No." 

"Then  why  did  Miss  Maguire  make  it  a  condition 
in  her  will  that  Coral  would  inherit  nothing  if  she 
married  you?" 

Alan  turned  and  looked  at  Crow  defiantly. 

"I  am  not  prepared  to  answer  for  what  Miss 
Maguire  did,"  he  replied. 

"How  long  did  you  say  you'd  been  staying 
here?" 

"About  a  couple  of  months." 

"The  other  day  you  said  all  the  winter.  Which 
is  correct?" 

"I  arrived  just  after  Christmas." 

"And  Miss  Maguire  was  an  old  friend  of  yours?" 

"I've  known  her  ever  since  I  can  remember." 

"Isn't  it  strange,  then,  that  you  never  visited  the 
Villa  Gloria  until  she  was  dead." 

"What  the  devil  d'you  mean?" 

"I  mean,  young  man,  that  for  some  reason  you 
have  made  up  your  mind  to  lie  to  me  as  hard  as  you 
can.  Come  now,  what  is  it  that  you  are  trying  to 
conceal?" 

"I'm  not  trying  to  conceal  anything." 


AN     EAVESDROPPER  iyi 

"Then  don't  lie  to  me.  I  did  not  spend  twenty 
years  of  my  life  at  the  criminal  bar,  cross-examining 
witnesses  and  defending  criminals  of  all  kinds 
without  learning  to  discriminate  between  the  truth 
and  lies." 

"I  had  my  own  reasons  for  not  visiting  Miss 
Maguire,"  Alan  replied,  sulkily. 

"Wasn't  it  because  you  knew  that  you  would  not 
be  admitted;  in  the  same  way  that  you  were  not 
admitted  to  her  house  in  England  last  summer?" 

"You  seem  to  know  a  hell  of  a  lot!" 

"  It  is  my  job  to  know  a  hell  of  a  lot." 

There  followed  a  minute's  silence.  Alan  Berwick 
stared  into  the  distance  again. 

"Miss  Maguire  and  I  had  a  bit  of  a  row  about 
something  last  summer,"  he  said. 

"About  what?" 

"Oh,  a  family  affair." 

"You  mean  about  Coral  Trent?" 

"All  right." 

"Come,  come,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Crow.  "You 
are  making  me  think  that  there  may  really  be  some- 
thing in  the  accusing  suggestions  which  have  been 
put  forward  concerning  you.  If  your  conduct  has 
been  straight  why  can't  you  confide  in  me?  Why 
make  me  drag  every  word  from  you?  Or  why  don't 
you  get  up  and  go,  if  you  don't  want  to  be  ques- 
tioned?" Alan  did  not  move.  "Why  did  Miss 
Maguire  object  when  you  began  to  pay  attention 
to  Miss  Trent?" 


172          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Who  told  you  she  did?" 

"No  one,  but  it  is  obvious  that  she  did,  and  I 
naturally  wonder  what  reason  she  had  for  objecting. 
Did  she  think  that  you  were  a  bit  wild?" 

"Probably." 

"You  might  just  as  well  tell  me  instead  of  beating 
about  the  bush,  because  it  is  more  than  likely  that 
my  investigations  will  take  me  to  England  in  the 
course  of  a  day  or  two,  and  if  I  go  there  I  shall  cer- 
tainly revisit  the  county  of  Shropshire,  and  make  a 
few  enquiries  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Church 
Mortimer." 

Another  silence. 

"Oh,  well,  I  suppose  I  may  as  well  tell  you,"  Alan 
said  after  a  while.  "She  got  to  know,  at  least  I  imagine 
she  did,  about  a  bit  of  scandal  concerning  myself  and 
a  village  girl;  and  I  know  for  a  fact  that  she  had  the 
blasted  cheek  to  tell  my  mater  that  I  ought  to  be 
working  instead  of  spending  so  much  of  my  time  at 
home." 

"Of  course  it  was  all  lies  that  you  told  me  the  other 
day  about  being  sent  to  the  South  of  France  for  your 
health?" 

"I'm  not  particularly  robust." 

"Don't  talk  nonsense,  Berwick.  You  came  down 
here  in  the  hope  of  being  able  to  see  something  of 
Miss  Trent.  Why  did  you  make  up  that  stupid  story 
about  having  a  weak  chest?" 

"To  tell  you  the  absolute  truth  I  knew  at  once, 
that  morning  when  you  and  your  daughter  came 


AN     EAVESDROPPER  173 

into  the  villa  garden,  that  you  were  nosing  round, 
and  I  didn't  see  why  I  should  answer  all  your 
questions." 

Martin  Crow  smiled. 

"Had  I  questioned  you  I  might  have  expected 
you  to  resent  my  curiosity,  but  I  would  remind  you 
that  both  you  and  Miss  Trent  began  by  giving  me  a 
whole  lot  of  information  for  which  I  did  not  ask, 
and  which  I  have  since  discovered  was  most  mis- 
leading." 

"I  knew  jolly  well  that  you'd  start  pumping  us 
sooner  or  later,  so  I  thought  I'd  get  in  first." 

"With  lies  which  were  bound  to  be  found  out. 
Tell  me,  Berwick,  did  you  succeed  in  meeting  Miss 
Trent  previous  to  her  aunt's  death?" 

"Once  or  twice,  for  a  few  minutes." 

"Where?" 

"On  one  of  the  lower  terraces,  down  by  the  railway 
line." 

"And  you  asked  her  to  marry  you?" 

"I  suppose  I'd  better  admit  that  I  did." 

"You  will  gain  nothing  by  lying  to  me,  my 
dear  fellow.  And  did  she  accept  your  proposal  of 
marriage?" 

"More  or  less.  She  wanted  to  marry  me,  but  she 
knew  that  it  would  mean  a  hell  of  a  row  with  her 
aunt  if  we  did.  We  decided  to  leave  it  for  a  bit, 
and  in  the  meantime  Coral  was  to  try  and  make  her 
aunt  regard  me  more  favourably." 

"Now,   Berwick,   I'm  going  to   ask  you   a  very 


174          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

important  question  and  I  want  either  a  truthful 
answer  or  no  answer  at  all.  You  can  choose  which 
it  shall  be.  What  were  you  doing  between  nine- 
thirty  and  ten-thirty  last  Tuesday  evening?" 

"Yes,  I  knew  that  was  coming." 

Alan's  voice  was  scarcely  audible. 

"  In  all  probability  you  will  be  asked  that  question 
by  the  Commissaire.  Well?" 

"I  was  in  Mentone." 

"Whereabouts  in  Mentone?" 

"Walking  along  the  front." 

"  Did  you  spend  the  whole  evening  doing  that? " 

"I "  Alan  broke  off  as  he  saw  Gerry  coming 

towards  them. 

"Father,  M.  Peille  wants  to  speak  to  you  on  the 
phone." 

"Very  well,  my  dear.  Stay  here  and  entertain 
Mr.  Berwick  until  I  come  back,"  Crow  said  as  he 
got  up.  He  went  across  the  terrace  and  into  the 
Pension. 

"M.  Crow?  Ah!  I  apologise  if  I  derange  you," 
said  the  Commissaire,  "but  I  thought  that  you  would 
like  to  know  that,  at  your  daughter's  suggestion,  we 
took  the  finger-prints  of  M.  Berwick  this  evening 
and  find  that  one  of  them  corresponds  with  the  print 
which  Mademoiselle  found  on  the  library  window  at 
the  Villa  Gloria." 

"  That  is  most  interesting,  M.  Peille,"  said  Martin 
Crow.  "I  happen  to  have  been  conversing  with 
that  gentleman  for  the  last  twenty  minutes  in  the 


AN     EAVESDROPPER  175 

garden.  May  I  venture  to  ask  what  you  make  of 
your  discovery?" 

"For  the  moment  I  make  nothing.  I  think  that 
he  may  be  able  to  explain  the  presence  of  his  finger- 
print on  the  window.  Having  been  a  visitor  at  the 
Villa  he " 

"That  is  where  you  are  supposing  too  much, 
M.  Peille,"  said  Crow.  "He  was  not  a  visitor  there 
until  after  the  tragedy." 

"But ?" 

"I  know.  I  have  been  discussing  it  with  him. 
He  was  not  approved  of  by  Mile.  Maguire." 

"Mon  Dieu!  But  this  becomes  interesting.  I 
shall  ask  him  to  call  at  my  office  in  the  morning 
and  I  shall  put  a  few  questions  to  him.  I  shall 
want  an  account  of  his  movements  last  Tuesday 
evening." 

"As  a  matter  of  fact  I  have  just  been  asking  him 
what  he  was  doing  then." 

"And  his  answer  was  satisfactory?" 

"Quite  satisfactory  if  he  was  telling  the  truth." 

"He  has  left  you?" 

"No,  he  is  still  in  the  garden,  talking  to  my 
daughter." 

"Ah,  your  daughter!  She  is  sharp.  She  seems  to 
suspect  that  young  man.  Do  you  agree  with  her  in 
that  respect,  M.  Crow?" 

"At  the  moment  I  am  not  prepared  to  answer 
that  question,  M.  Peille.  "In  half  an  hour's  time 
I  might  be  able  to  do  so." 


176          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Perhaps  you  will  let  me  know  to-morrow  what 
you  decide?" 

"I  will  come  and  see  you  some  time  during  the 
day." 

Martin  Crow  returned  to  the  garden  and  found 
Gerry  and  Alan  looking  over  the  garden  hedge 
beyond  which  the  ground  sloped  precipitously  down 
to  the  station. 

"We  have  been  trying  to  hit  that  Agave  tree 
with  these  pebbles,"  Gerry  announced  as  her  father 
joined  them. 

"And  who  won?"  asked  Crow. 

"Neither  of  us  succeeded  in  hitting  it  at  all," 
Gerry  confessed.  "Are  you  going  on  talking  now 
or  are  you  coming  over  to  us,  Father?"  she  asked. 

"We  will  come  in  a  few  minutes,  my  dear.  There 
is  something  that  I  wish  to  ask  Mr.  Berwick."  Crow 
waited  until  Gerry  had  joined  Alison  and  Stephen 
Chart  in  the  arbour,  then  he  turned  to  Alan.  "I 
have  just  been  talking  to  the  Commissaire  on  the 
telephone,"  he  said,  "and  he  tells  me  that  your 
finger-print  corresponds  with  one  which  was  found 
on  the  library  window  at  the  Villa  Gloria." 

"Oh  my  God!" 

For  several  minutes  neither  of  them  spoke.  Alan 
Berwick  dropped  into  a  chair  and  sat  gazing  at  his 
hands  which  were  tightly  clasped  between  his  knees. 
Crow  watched  him  for  some  while  and  then  said, 

"Well?  Is  there  any  explanation  that  you'd  like 
to  give  me.  The  Commissaire  will  be  sending  for 


AN     EAVESDROPPER  177 

you  to-morrow.  I  think  perhaps  you  will  find  it 
easier  to  talk  to  me  than  to  him." 

A  couple  of  minutes  passed  before  Alan  Berwick 
sat  upright  and  looked  straight  at  Crow. 

"All  right,  I'll  tell  you,  and  I'm  sorry  I  didn't 
do  so  before  you  got  that  message  about  the  finger- 
print. I  don't  suppose  you'll  believe  a  damned  thing 
that  I  say  now;  but  that  can't  be  helped.  All  the 
same,  I  swear  that  what  I'm  going  to  tell  you  is 
true.  You  were  quite  right,  Mr.  Crow.  I  came  down 
here  to  see  Coral  and  discuss  the  possibilities  of 
marrying.  She  was  ready  enough,  but  I  haven't  the 
means  to  keep  a  wife,  at  least  not  in  any  sort  of  style, 
and  I  knew  jolly  well  that  it  would  be  just  madness 
to  run  off  with  her  and  get  nothing  out  of  the  aunt." 

"To  be  perfectly  frank,  Berwick,  you  wanted  to 
marry  Coral  Trent  provided  she  could  bring  you  a 
comfortable  income,  and  not  otherwise?" 

"I  wasn't  going  to  marry  her  if  it  meant  keeping 
her  on  my  present  income.  Now,  when  I  came  down 
here  first,  I  knew  that  it  would  only  be  asking  for 
trouble  if  I  showed  myself  to  Miss  Maguire,  so  we 
hit  upon  the  plan  of  meeting  occasionally  on  the 
lower  terrace.  On  Sunday  night  Coral  told  me  that 
Michael  Maguire  was  coming  the  next  day  and 
that  he  was  going  to  be  told  that  he  was  to  marry 
her.  The  next  night,  instead  of  waiting  about 
for  Coral  down  by  the  railway  line  I  went  up  to  the 
villa  and  peered  in  through  the  library  window." 

"Why  did  you  do  that?" 


178          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Coral  had  said  that  her  aunt  would  be  tackling 
Michael  about  the  marriage,  and  I  wanted  to  hear 
what  they  were  saying.  I  thought  I  might  hear 
something  that  would  help  my  own  case.  The  window 
was  open  and  they  were  fairly  going  for  each  other, 
and  I  heard  Miss  Maguire  say  that  he  must  think 
it  over  and  come  to  a  final  decision  by  the  following 
evening.  So  I  turned  up  again  at  the  same  time  on 
Tuesday.  I  had  meant  to  get  there  a  bit  earlier,  but 
a  fellow  kept  me  talking  at  the  place  where  I'm 
staying.  It  must  have  been  about  half  past  ten  when 
I  looked  through  the  open  window  and  got  the 
shock  of  my  life.  I  saw  Miss  Maguire  leaning  back 
in  her  chair  with  a  ghastly  wound  on  the  side  of  her 
head.  Michael  was  standing  at  her  side  and  the 
butler  was  just  coming  in  at  the  door.  "I  heard  him 
say  'My  God,  what's  happened?',  and  then  he  came 
across  to  the  window  where  I  was  standing.  Of 
course  I  cleared  off  as  fast  as  I  could." 

"What  did  you  imagine  had  happened?". 

"Why,  that  Maguire  had  killed  his  aunt,  of 
course." 

"You  volunteered  no  information  to  the  police?" 

"No,  I  thought  it  best  to  keep  quiet." 

"Did  you  see  anyone  in  the  garden  as  you  came 
up  to  the  villa?" 

"No.  I  met  a  man  on  the  path  which  runs  parallel 
with  the  railway  line." 

"What  sort  of  man?" 

"I  couldn't  see.    It  was  pretty  dark." 


AN     EAVESDROPPER  179 

"Which  way  was  he  going?" 

"  In  the  direction  from  which  I  had  come.  Towards 
the  station." 

"Did  you  imagine  that  he  had  come  out  of  the 
villa  garden?" 

"I  didn't  think  anything  about  him  at  the  time." 

"But  afterwards,  when  you  knew  what  had 
happened?" 

"No,  I  didn't  give  him  another  thought  until 
just  now." 

"You  said  the  window  was  open,  on  Tuesday 
night,  when  you  were  looking  into  the  room?" 

"Yes." 

"Are  you  absolutely  certain  about  that?" 

"Of  course  I  am.  I  don't  suppose  I  should  have 
heard  what  the  butler  said  if  it  had  been  closed." 

"Do  you  know  how  much  it  was  open?" 

"Not  more  than  a  couple  of  inches." 

"Were  the  curtains  drawn?" 

"Yes,  but  not  right  across.  There  was  just  a  small 
space  through  which  I  could  see.  Miss  Maguire, 
Michael  and  the  door,  where  the  butler  was  standing, 
were  almost  dead  in  line.  I  swear  that's  the  truth, 
every  damned  word  of  it.  D'you  believe  it?" 

"Something  that  you  have  just  said  certainly 
confirms  one  of  my  theories  pretty  neatly,"  replied 
Crow,  thoughtfully. 

"But  can  you  make  the  Commissaire  believe  it?" 
Alan  seemed  to  take  it  for  granted  that  his  story  was 
believed  by  Crow. 


l8o          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"I  cannot  answer  for  what  he  may  think.  It  is 
quite  likely  that  he  will  send  for  you  in  the  morning 
and  will  ask  you  if  you  are  right  or  left-handed.  If 
he  does  I  advise  you  to  answer  truthfully." 

"What  are  you  getting  at?"  Alan  had  become 
suddenly  apprehensive. 

"When  I  saw  him  this  morning  I  told  him  that, 
in  my  opinion,  Miss  Maguire  was  struck  down  by 
a  left-handed  man." 

"My  God!" 

For  several  seconds  Alan  sat  with  his  face  covered 
by  his  hands,  then  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"I  believe  you've  been  setting  that  blasted  Com- 
missaire  on  to  me,  just  because  you  want  to  get 
Maguire  free,  you  old  devil!"  he  cried.  "How  the 
hell  did  you  know  that  I  was  left-handed."  His 
tone  was  threatening. 

"I  saw  you  just  now  trying  to  hit  that  Agave 
with  a  pebble." 

"God!  So  that's  why  your  daughter  made  herself 
so  damned  pleasant  while  you  were  telephoning, 
and  suggested  trying  to  hit  the  blasted  thing.  It 
was  a  plot!  Yes,  a  dirty,  mean  plot  to  catch  me. 
What  a  cursed  fool  I  was  to  think  that  you  might 
help  me,  you  snivelling  old  spy.  To  hell  with  you!" 

The  three  people  sitting  in  the  arbour  heard  the 
last  remark  and  saw  Alan  Berwick  rush  across  the 
garden  and  go  out  by  the  side  gate. 

"What's  been  happening?"  Gerry  asked  as  her 
father  joined  them.  Martin  Crow  sat  down. 


AN     EAVESDROPPER  l8l 

"Our  young  friend  was  rather  upset  when  he 
realised  that  you  had  laid  a  little  trap  in  order  to 
discover  which  hand  he  used  habitually." 

"Yes,  I  suspected  it,  and  was  determined  to  make 
sure.  Now,  perhaps,  you  can  persuade  M.  Peille 
to  arrest  him  and  set  Michael  free." 

"Arrest  him  on  a  charge  of  murdering  Miss 
Maguire?" 

"Of  course." 

"I'm  afraid  you  are  being  rather  precipitate,  my 
dear,"  Crow  replied.  "I  admit  that  your  suspicions 
about  him  may  be  considerably  strengthened,  but 
he  is  not  the  only  person  who  demands  our  close 
attention." 

"Yes,  I  know,  Father,  you  can't  help  thinking 
that  Boughton  had  a  hand  in  it,  but  what  could  he 
have  possibly  gained  by " 

Once  more  their  conversation  was  interrupted; 
by  Mile.  Antoinette,  who  came  into  the  garden  from 
the  path  leading  up  from  the  station. 

"Bon  soir,  messieurs,  bon  soir,  mademoiselles," 
she  said  as  she  approached.  After  an  exchange  of 
a  few  commonplace  remarks  about  the  warm  evening, 
the  moon  and  the  starlit  sky,  the  French  girl  went 
up  to  Martin  Crow  and,  lowering  her  voice  to  a 
whisper,  said, 

"As  I  came  up  from  posting  a  letter  down  there 
I  saw  someone  crouching  down  against  the  wall. 
I  think  he  must  have  been  trying  to  hear  what  you 
were  talking  about." 


182          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

Crow  got  up. 

"Thank  you,  Mademoiselle,"  he  said,  speaking 
French.  "I  will  go  upstairs  and  see  if  I  can  find  it 
for  you."  Then  he  whispered  in  Gerry's  ear,  "Talk 
about  our  visitor  and  Peille.  I  shall  be  back  in  a  few 
minutes." 

Gerry  started  to  talk  about  Alan  Berwick's  visit, 
and  of  her  meeting  with  the  Commissaire  that 
evening.  Presently  they  heard  scurrying  footsteps 
on  the  path  below,  and  a  few  moments  later  Martin 
Crow  entered  the  garden  by  the  same  gate  which 
Mile.  Antoinette  had  come  in  by  a  short  while 
previously. 

"Did  you  see  anyone,  Mr.  Crow?"  Alison  asked, 
eagerly. 

"Yes,  as  Mademoiselle  told  us,  a  man." 

"Who  was  it?"  Gerry  asked. 

"I  went  through  the  house,  out  by  the  top  gate 
and  down  the  upper  path.  I  saw  him  quite  distinctly 
as  I  turned  the  corner,  but  he  bolted  directly  he 
spotted  me.  Unless  I  was  very  much  mistaken  it 
was  our  friend,  Boughton." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

DANGER  FOR   MARTIN   CROW 

MARTIN  CROW  was  in  a  taciturn  mood  after 
his   discovery   of  the  butler  from  the  Villa 
Gloria  on  the  path  outside  the  Pension  garden  and 
would  answer  none  of  the  questions  which  were  so 
eagerly  asked. 

"If  I  appear  to  be  unsociable  and  uncommunica- 
tive I  must  crave  your  indulgence,"  he  said  with 
his  genial  smile.  "I  think  that  I  shall  take  a  little 
stroll  alone  if  you  will  all  excuse  me.  No  doubt  you 
will  have  gone  to  bed  by  the  time  that  I  return,  so 
I  will  say  good  night." 

Gerry  watched  her  father  as  he  walked  across  the 
garden  with  his  hands  clasped  behind  his  back,  and 
his  head  lowered. 

"He  thinks  that  he  has  made  an  important  dis- 
covery," she  said,  as  soon  as  he  had  disappeared. 
"I  know  that  silent  mood  of  his  so  well." 

"Do  you  think  that  he  is  going  up  to  the  villa  to 
tackle  the  butler?"  Stephen  Chart  asked. 

"Possibly,  but  it  is  more  likely  that  he  is  going 
for  a  walk.  He  always  does  that  when  he  wants  to  con- 
centrate upon  some  point.  I  think  that  Alan  Berwick 
has  given  him  a  good  deal  to  think  about." 

183 


184          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

Martin  Crow  paused  when  he  reached  the  road 
by  the  electrician's  shop  and  looked  at  his  old- 
fashioned  watch.  It  was  half  past  nine.  Where 
should  he  go  first?  To  the  little  Bar-Restaurant 
next  to  the  English  tea-rooms,  or  to  Mme.  Imbert's, 
down  by  the  station?  At  which  would  he  be  most 
likely  to  learn  something  about  Miss  Maguire's 
butler?  After  a  few  moments  he  decided  to  visit 
the  former  first,  and  ten  minutes  later  he  entered 
the  bar  and  asked  for  a  glass  of  vin  du  pays. 

Three  or  four  working  men  were  standing  round 
the  counter  discussing  a  Boule  match  which  their 
club  was  playing  on  the  following  Sunday.  They 
were  talking  Italian,  or  rather  a  mixture  of  Italian, 
Monegasque  and  French,  and  Crow  had  some 
difficulty  in  understanding  them.  For  some  while 
he  listened  in  silence  and  then,  after  making  one  or 
two  casual  observations  on  the  game,  asked  them  all 
to  drink  with  him. 

The  invitation  was  readily  accepted,  and  before 
very  long  Crow  succeeded  in  steering  the  conversa- 
tion to  the  affaire  of  the  Villa  Gloria.  Yes,  indeed, 
it  was  a  sad  business,  they  all  agreed.  Mile.  Maguire 
had  always  kept  very  much  to  herself,  but  she  had 
been  a  wealthy  woman  and  had  patronised  the 
local  shops  and  had  employed  the  people  of  the 
quartier :  in  fact  one  of  the  men  worked  for  her  in 
the  garden  and  was  now  wondering  what  would 
happen  to  his  job. 

Martin  Crow  talked  round  the  subject  and  tried 


DANGER     FOR     MARTIN     CROW  185 

to  avoid  asking  direct  questions.  The  gardener, 
owing  to  his  position  at  the  villa,  was  regarded  by 
his  friends  as  a  person  of  considerable  importance; 
an  authority  on  the  crime,  and  he  greatly  assisted 
Crow  by  replying  readily,  and  at  considerable  length, 
to  any  question  which  was  put  to  him.  No,  he  had 
never  set  eyes  on  the  accused,  but  had  heard  through 
the  cook  that  the  young  man  had  obviously  killed 
his  aunt  in  order  that  he  might  become  possessed 
of  her  money  and  property.  It  was  said  that  the 
defunct  woman's  fortune  amounted  to  nearly  three 
million  francs.  Well,  that  was  a  great  temptation. 
Yes,  the  servants  were  all  terribly  upset  by  the 
tragedy,  particularly  the  butler,  who  had  been  in 
the  service  of  Mademoiselle  for  several  years.  Of 
course  that  was  why  he  had  not  been  seen  in  the  bar 
since  the  crime  had  been  committed.  Poor  fellow; 
he  was  too  upset  to  come  out  and  talk  to  people. 
No,  he  talked  very  little  French,  but  he  could  make 
himself  understood  and  was,  indeed,  an  agreeable 
acquaintance. 

It  did  not  seem  to  Martin  Crow  that  the  Bar  du 
Soleil  would  help  him  very  much  more,  and  after 
standing  the  company  another  round  of  drinks  he 
bade  them  all  good  night  and  descended  the  hill 
which  passes  the  Pension  Mireille  and  goes  on  to 
the  station.  He  crossed  the  Place  Marius  Otto  and 
went  down  the  path  to  the  Bar  Imbert  which  was 
deserted  except  for  Mme.  Imbert  who  sat  at  one  of 
the  small  tables  writing  a  letter.  Crow  asked  for  a 


l86          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

Cinzano  a  I'eau,  seated  himself  at  another  table, 
and  made  some  obvious  remark  about  the  slackness 
of  the  winter  season  on  the  Riviera.  Mme.  Imbert, 
a  plump,  good-looking  woman,  shrugged  her  broad 
shoulders  and  sighed. 

"It  is  always  the  same  now  since  the  exchanges 
have  been  so  bad,"  she  declared,  plaintively.  "The 
Americans  and  the  English  no  longer  come  to  the  Cote 
d'Azur  as  they  used  to.  They  cannot  afford  it.  It 
is  most  unfortunate  for  those  who  depend  upon  the 
winter  visitors." 

"It  affects  you,   Madame?"   Crow  asked. 

The  woman  shrugged  again. 

"Not  so  much  as  some,"  she  admitted.  "My 
clients  are  chiefly  people  of  the  quartier,  but  owing 
to  the  crise  they  naturally  have  less  money  to  spend, 
so  it  certainly  makes  a  difference.  You  are  not 
English,  Monsieur?" 

"Do   I  appear  to  be  English,   Madame?" 

She  smiled  and  looked  at  Crow  critically. 

"I  think  you  do,  and  yet  from  your  speech  you 
must  be  French,"  she  said. 

"My  mother  was  English,"  Crow  told  her  truth- 
fully. "I  have  many  English  friends,  that  is  why 
I  am  so  interested  in  the  terrible  crime  at  the  Villa 
Gloria." 

Mme.  Imbert  rolled  her  eyes  heavenwards  and 
made  a  gesture  with  her  plump  hands  which  was 
intended  to  express  her  horror. 

"It   is   indeed    terrible,    as    you    say,    Monsieur 


DANGER     FOR     MARTIN     CROW  187 

Mademoiselle  was  rich  and  employed  may  of  the 
local  people." 

"What  is  the  latest  news  of  the  case,  Madame?" 

"I  have  heard  nothing  to-day  except  what  one 
can  read  in  the  £claireur.  I  was  expecting 
Mademoiselle's  butler  to  come  in,  but  he  has  not 
been  for  several  days." 

"He  comes  here  often,  Madame?"  Crow  asked, 
trying  to  subdue  his  increasing  interest. 

"I  cannot  say  that  he  comes  often,  but  he  was 
here  with  a  friend  several  times  last  week." 

"It  would  certainly  be  instructive  to  hear  his  views 
on  the  affaire.  What  sort  of  a  man  is  he?  English?" 

"Yes,  and  I  should  say  that  he  was  a  proficient 
maitre  d'hotel.  But  I  have  not  said  more  than  a 
few  words  to  him.  He  did  not  understand  much 
French,  and  was  always  a  good  deal  occupied  with 
talking  to  his  friend." 

"He  was  also  English,  I  suppose?" 

"They  always  spoke  English  together.  The  crime 
interests  Monsieur?" 

"Such  things  always  interest  me,  Madame.  I 
am  an  author  and  write  les  romans  policiers." 

"Ah,  you  write!  Of  course,  you  make  a  study  of 
character." 

"Exactly.  And  what  do  you  think  really  happened, 
Madame?  Do  you  think,  with  the  police,  that  the 
nephew  killed  his  aunt?" 

"How  can  one  tell,  Monsieur?  I  understand  that 
the  young  man  was  found  standing  over  the  dead 


l88          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

woman  with  a  blood-stained  candle-stick  in  his  hand, 
and  his  clothes  smothered  with  blood.  And  I  have 
heard  it  said  that  his  pockets  were  crammed  with 
money  which  he  had  stolen  from  Mademoiselle's  safe." 

"Is  that  so?"  asked  Crow,  ingenuously.  "The 
evidence  appears  to  be  conclusive." 

"Of  course  he  will  not  have  to  pay  the  penalty 
with  his  life." 

"You  think  not?" 

"But  no.  He  will  employ  a  clever  avocat  who 
will  show  that  the  aunt  goaded  him  into  killing  her. 
Our  laws  are  reasonable  and  humane,  Monsieur." 

"And  you  have  not  seen  the  butler  since  it 
happened?" 

"No,  he  has  not  been  here  since  .  .  .  now 
when  was  it?  Yes,  it  was  on  Monday  night  that 
his  friend  came  in  at  half  past  nine  and  ordered  an 
omelette  and  a  bottle  of  wine,  and  at  ten,  or  a  little 
after,  he  was  joined  by  the  butler.  They  were 
sitting  at  that  table  where  you  are  now  and  did  not 
depart  until  nearly  midnight." 

"They  had  much  to  talk  about,"  suggested  Crow. 

"Yes,  they  were  much  occupied  about  something, 
but  of  course  I  could  not  understand  what  they  were 
saying.  I  heard  them  mention  the  villa  several  times, 
and  before  they  left  the  butler  came  across  to  the 
counter  and  asked  me  if  I  could  let  him  see  a  time- 
table for  the  trains.  You  do  not  think,  Monsieur, 
that  they  had  anything  to  do  with  the  crime?" 
asked  Mme.  Imbert  with  a  look  of  horror. 


DANGER     FOR     MARTIN     CROW  189 

"I  am  a  stranger  here,  Madame,  and  know  nothing 
of  the  case,"  Crow  answered.  "From  what  you 
tell  me  it  seems  that  the  police  have  plenty  of  evidence 
against  the  nephew;  so  why  should  these  fellows 
have  been  concerned." 

"I  just  wondered." 

"What  was  the  butler's  friend  like?" 

"A  man  of  fifty,  or  perhaps  fifty-five.  He  had 
reddish  hair  and  was  well-dressed." 

"And  his  manner,  Madame?"  asked  Crow,  not 
caring  if  he  appeared  to  be  eager  for  information. 

"That  is  not  easy  to  say,  Monsieur,  for  he  scarcely 
spoke  to  me,  except  to  order  his  dinner  and  his 
drink." 

"You  could  not  judge  by  his  conversation  with 
his  friend,  the  butler?" 

"But  no,  Monsieur.  I  understand  no  English. 
They  both  seemed  to  be  greatly  concerned  about 
something,  and  I  remarked  that  it  was  the  butler 
who  did  most  of  the  talking.  The  other  appeared 
to  be  worried.  It  is  possible  that  he  was  being 
persuaded  to  do  something.  When  they  were  con- 
sulting the  time-table  I  heard  them  mention  Marseille ; 
and  there  was  another  name  which  I  did  not  under- 
stand. What  do  you  say  for  La  Corse,  in  English?" 

"Corsica." 

"Yes,  that  was  it.  I  heard  that  name  several 
times." 

"You  think  that  the  friend  was  going  there, 
Madame?" 


CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"How  can  I  say.  I  heard  the  name,  but  I  could 
not  understand  what  they  were  talking  about." 

"Well,  well,  it  is  a  sad  business  for  the  young 
man,  especially  if  there  is  any  reason  for  the  sug- 
gestion that  his  aunt  irritated  him,  and  made  him 
in  such  a  fury  that  he  did  not  know  what  he  was  doing." 

"Indeed  it  is  very  sad,"  agreed  Mme.  Imbert, 
shaking  her  head,  mournfully.  "Monsieur  will 
excuse  me  a  little  moment?" 

She  got  up  and  went  across  to  the  counter  to  serve 
a  working  man  who  had  slouched  into  the  bar  and 
demanded  a  vin  rouge.  Martin  Crow  drained  his 
glass  and,  as  soon  as  the  newcomer  had  been  served, 
paid  for  his  drink  and  departed.  He  walked  down 
the  hill  and,  crossing  over  the  railway  bridge,  walked 
as  far  as  the  entrance  to  the  Case  del  Mare  where  he 
stood  for  some  while,  leaning  over  the  wall  and 
staring  across  the  bay  towards  the  Cap. 

If  anyone  could  have  seen  him  it  might  have  been 
noticed  that  a  faint  smile  played  round  the  corners 
of  his  mouth.  He  was  well  satisfied  with  his  evening's 
work,  for  he  had  obtained  a  quantity  of  corroborative 
evidence  which  was  likely  to  be  of  the  greatest  import- 
ance. At  last  he  had  several  facts  upon  which  he  could 
work  and  which,  he  hoped,  would  impress  M.  Peille. 

After  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  meditation  Martin 
Crow  turned  away  from  his  contemplation  of  the 
Mediterranean  and  began  to  ascend  the  hill.  He 
had  reached  the  Place  Marius  Otto  and  was  about 
to  enter  the  Pension  garden  when  something  whistled 


DANGER     FOR     MARTIN     CROW  191 

past  his  ear  and  struck  one  of  the  pepper  trees  at 
his  side.  Being  human,  and  valuing  his  life,  he  did 
not  turn  in  the  direction  from  which  the  shot 
had,  supposedly,  been  fired — as  most  detectives  in 
fiction  are  supposed  to  do — but  bent  down  and  hurried 
down  the  drive.  A  second  shot  was  aimed  at  him 
before  he  reached  the  shelter  of  the  porch  unharmed. 

In  the  hall  of  the  Pension  Crow  encountered 
Mme.  Ribaud. 

"Ah,  it  is  M.  Crow.  You  have  news  from  the 
Villa  Gloria?"  she  asked. 

"I  regret  to  say  that  I  have  none,"  he  replied,  still 
a  little  out  of  breath  from  his  run  down  the  drive. 

"The  young  man  is  still  at  Nice,  Monsieur?" 

"Yes,  and  I  am  afraid  that  he  may  be  there  for 
some  while." 

"But  you  will  surely  prove  his  innocence?" 

"Of  that  I  have  no  doubt,  Madame,  but  it  must, 
of  necessity  take  time." 

"I  believe,  Monsieur " 

Mme.  Ribaud  got  no  further  for  at  that  moment 
the  front  door  opened  and  Alison  entered,  followed 
by  Gerry  and  Stephen  Chart. 

"Was  that  you  who  walked  up  the  hill  in  front  of 
us?"  Alison  asked. 

"I  expect  it  was,  my  dear,  I  have  only  just  come 
in.  Why?" 

"We  whistled  to  you,"  Gerry  explained,  "but 
you  wouldn't  have  anything  to  do  with  us.  We 
didn't  see  why  we  should  be  chivied  off  to  bed  like 


192          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

a  lot  of  naughty  children,  so  we  went  for  a  walk  down 
to  the  further  plage.  What  have  you  been  doing?" 

Martin  Crow  took  his  daughter's  arm  and  smiled. 

"I  have  been  talking  to  some  of  the  local 
inhabitants,"  he  told  her.  "Did  you  see  anyone 
while  you  were  out?" 

"We  saw  Alan  Berwick  scuttling  across  the  Place 
as  we  came  up  the  hill.  Didn't  he  pass  you?" 

"Alan  Berwick?"  Crow  repeated  in  a  questioning 
tone.  "No,  I  didn't  see  him." 

"  He  must  have  been  just  by  the  gate  as  you  came  in," 

"Well,  I  suppose  I  was  too  much  occupied  with 
my  thoughts  to  notice  anyone,"  Crow  said.  "Good 
night,  Alison,  my  dear.  I  have  learnt  quite  a  lot 
to-day,  you  will  be  glad  to  know,  and  I  feel  that 
we  have  made  headway.  I  really  think  that  it  will 
not  be  very  long  before  I  shall  be  able  to  persuade 
M.  Peille  to  liberate  your  Michael,  at  least  on  parole, 
if  not  unconditionally." 

"You  really  think  so,  Mr.  Crow?   How  soon?" 

"I  cannot  possibly  tell  you  how  soon.  I  am 
contemplating  paying  a  visit  to  London,  leaving  here 
to-morrow.  I  shall  probably  be  away  five  or  six  days, 
but  I  sincerely  hope  that  when  I  return  I  shall  be 
in  a  position  to  demand  Michael's  release." 

"Five  or  six  days!"  exclaimed  Alison,  almost  in 
tears.  "Do  you  mean  to  say  that  there  is  no  chance 
of  his  getting  out  before  then?" 

Martin  Crow  went  up  to  her  and  patted  her  hand 
in  his  old-fashioned,  fatherly  manner. 


DANGER     FOR     MARTIN     CROW  193 

"It  must  seem  a  terribly  long  time  to  you,  my 
dear,"  he  said,  "and  you  must  be  prepared  for  it 
being  even  longer  than  that.  I  shall  be  seeing  M. 
Peille  early  in  the  morning  and  I  will  try  to  arrange 
for  you  and  Gerry  to  go  over  each  day,  or  every  other 
day,  to  see  Michael.  You  are  going  to-morrow  in 
any  case." 

"  I'm  sorry  if  I  seem  to  be  very  stupid,  but  minutes 
seem  like  hours,  and  hours  like  days." 

"I  know.  I  can  sympathise  with  you.  However, 
you  may  rest  well  assured  that  I  shall  not  stay  away 
one  moment  longer  than  is  necessary,  and  all  the 
time  I  shall  be  working  for  his  release." 

"Perhaps  you  would  give  me  a  call  at  my  office 
and  let  me  know  how  you  are  progressing,  or  ring 
me  up?"  suggested  Stephen  Chart. 

"Of  course  I  will.  When  do  you  expect  to  be  back 
in  London?"  Crow  asked. 

"The  funeral  is  on  Monday  morning  and  I  shall 
try  to  get  away  in  the  afternoon." 

"Then  you  may  see  me  on  Wednesday.  And  now 
I  think  it  is  time  for  bed."  When  they  were  upstairs 
Martin  Crow  called  Gerry  into  his  room.  "Sit  down, 
my  dear,"  he  said.  "I  have  a  good  deal  to  say  to 
you.  This  case  has  some  very  remarkable  aspects. 
You  and  I  have  been  working  on  different  lines,  and 
if  we  laid  our  views  on  the  table,  so  to  speak,  I  think 
it  is  probable  that  there  might  not  be  much  to  choose 
between  them  when  the  weight  of  evidence  was 
carefully  considered." 


194          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"You  mean  that  my  case  is  against  Alan  Berwick 
and  yours  against  the  butler?"  asked  Gerry. 

"Precisely.  Now,  the  two  cases  stand,  briefly, 
as  follows.  Alan  and  Coral  wanted  to  marry  and 
were  opposed  by  Miss  Maguire;  therefore  they  both 
had  a  reason  for  desiring  her  death.  Whether  the 
fellow  has  any  real  affection  for  Miss  Trent,  or  is 
merely  after  the  money  which  she  will  inherit,  I 
cannot  say;  and  it  does  not  materially  affect  us. 
On  his  own  admission  he  was  in  the  villa  garden  at 
about  the  time  when  the  murder  was  committed; 
and  being  left-handed  my  theory  of  a  left-handed 
blow  is  supported,  if  we  regard  him  as  the  possible 
murderer.  His  lies  about  being  ordered  to  the  South 
of  France  for  his  health  might  be  taken  negatively, 
or  as  evidence  against  him.  There  remain  two 
outstanding  questions:  Why  should  he  have  des- 
troyed the  wills;  and  who  planted  the  five  mille 
notes  in  Michael  Maguire's  suit-case  ?  If  we  suspect 
Alan  I  think  that  we  must  also  suspect  Coral,  at 
least  of  being  an  accessory." 

"But  why?" 

"I  do  not  feel  that  he  would  have  committed  such 
a  crime  on  his  own  initiative,  if  at  all.  But  he  might 
have  been  coerced  into  doing  it.  However,  the  points 
about  the  wills  and  the  notes  are  really  of  minor 
consideration.  The  wills  might  have  been  destroyed 
in  order  to  create  confusion;  and  as  we  agreed  before 
about  the  notes,  Coral  may  have  intended  hiding 
them  somewhere  in  Michael's  room." 


DANGER     FOR     MARTIN     CROW  195 

"That  sounds  straightforward  enough,"  Gerry 
admitted. 

"Now  let  us  consider  Boughton,"  Crow  went 
on.  "In  my  opinion  our  evidence  is  really  stronger 
against  him  than  against  Alan,  although  I  admit 
that  for  the  present  we  are  without  a  motive.  But  let 
us  forget  that  for  a  moment  and  consider  the  evidence 
which  we  have  against  him.  He  declared  that  the 
library  windows  were  closed  and  fastened  when  he 
looked  at  them  immediately  after  the  murder,  and 
Alan  Berwick  says  that  one  was  open.  Now,  either 
might  have  been  lying,  but  it  was  in  Alan's  interest 
to  say  that  it  was  closed  and  fastened.  Then 
there  was  a  little  incident  which  was  scarcely  noticed 
at  the  time,  just  before  Mr.  Chart  announced  the 
terms  of  the  will.  I  was  convinced  that  someone 
was  listening  in  the  next  room;  and  our  experience 
this  evening  with  the  eavesdropper  whom  Mile. 
Antoinette  and  I  both  saw,  confirms  my  suspicion 
that  it  was  Boughton  whom  I  heard  in  the  salon 
that  afternoon.  Again,  when  I  was  coming  in  at 
the  gate  just  now  someone  fired  a  shot  at  me  from  a 
silenced  gun  and " 

"Father!  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  that  be- 
fore?" 

Martin  Crow  smiled. 

"It  was  certainly  a  little  disconcerting  at  the 
moment,  but  I  am  hoping  that  the  rather  foolish 
attempt  on  my  life  may  prove  helpful  to  us.  The 
bullet  struck  one  of  the  pepper  trees  and  I  am 


196          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

hoping  to  extract  it  in   the  morning.      It  may  be 
most  useful  evidence  to  M.  Peille." 

"You  think  it  was  Boughton  who  fired  the  shot?" 

"You,  of  course,  suspect  Alan  Berwick." 

"He  must  have  been  just  there  when  you  entered." 

"  Well,  you  may  be  right.  It  ought  not  to  be  difficult 

for  M.  Peille  to  find  out  if  either  of  them  possesses 

a  gun  which  fired  that  bullet.    That  brings  me  to 

another  point.     I   am  not  altogether  happy   about 

leaving  you  two  girls,  but  I  shall  take  the  precaution 

of  demanding  protection  from  the  police.   They  will 

watch    both    Boughton    and    Berwick    during    my 

absence,   and  I  shall  ask  the   Commissaire  to  put 

someone  on  to  guard   you  and   Alison.    I  did  not 

say  anything  about  my  little  adventure  before  Alison 

because  I  did  not  wish  to  alarm  her." 

"And  why  are  you  going  to  London  to-morrow, 
Father?" 

"To  see  what  I  can  discover  about  the  past  history 
of  Boughton.  I  start  with  the  useful  knowledge 
that  he  and  Charles  Carthew  are  acquainted." 

"  How  did  you  learn  that  ? "  Crow  told  his  daughter 
about  his  conversation  with  Mme.  Imbert.  "Father, 
I  believe  you  may  be  right  about  the  butler  after 
all.  Do  you  think  now  that  Boughton,  Carthew  and 
Alan  may  have  all  been  in  it?" 

"I  don't  know,  my  dear.  Perhaps  they  were. 
Now  I  will  say  good  night.  I  want  to  be  up  early 
in  the  morning." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

SURPRISES  FOR   M.   PEILLE 

ON  jour,  M.  Crow,  I  trust  that  you  find  yourself 
well  this  morning,"  said  the  Commissaire, 
warmly,  as  his  visitor  was  shown  into  the  room.  "I 
do  not  think  you  have  met  M.  Robin,  the  Examining 
Magistrate,  who  is  investigating  the  Villa  Gloria 
case." 

Martin  Crow  shook  hands  with  both  men  and 
seated  himself  in  a  chair  which  the  Commissaire 
had  drawn  up  for  him. 

"I  am  glad  to  say  that  I  find  myself  very  well, 
M.  Peille,  thanks  to  the  uncertain  aim  of  a  would-be 
assassin." 

"But  what  is  this  you  say?"  exclaimed  the  Com- 
missaire. "You  do  not  mean  to  tell  us  that  someone 
has  made  an  attempt  against  your  life." 

"That  is  exactly  what  I  do  mean,"  replied  Crow 
as  he  held  out  his  left  hand,  revealing  a  small,  round 
object  lying  in  the  palm.  "And  if  you  can  find  the 
gun  from  which  that  bullet  was  fired  you  will  be 
very  near  to  finding  Mile.  Maguire's  murderer." 

The  Commissaire  and  the  Examining  Magistrate 
exchanged  perplexed  glances.  The  former  took  the 
bullet  from  Crow's  hand  and  scrutinised  it  closely. 
197 


198          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"But  this  is  incredible,"  he  said.  "When  did  this 
happen?" 

"Last  night." 

"Where?" 

"At  the  gate  of  the  Pension  Mireille  on  the 
Place  Marius  Otto."  Crow  described  exactly  what 
had  taken  place. 

"You  do  not  know  who  fired  the  shot?" 

"I  have  my  suspicions,  M.  Peille,  but  before  I 
tell  you  anything  more  about  that  I  shall  be  grateful 
if  you  would  be  so  kind  as  to  do  something  for  me, 
something  which  is  rather  urgent." 

The  Commissaire  was  not  feeling  at  all  happy 
about  his  case  against  Michael  Maguire.  He  was 
beginning  to  realise  that  there  was  more  in  it  than  he 
had  at  first  imagined,  and  he  had  no  wish  to  run  the 
risk  of  continuing  along  the  wrong  path  if  Crow  could 
set  him  right. 

"I  and  my  colleagues  are  entirely  at  your  service," 
he  said,  avoiding  the  disapproving  look  from  the 
Examining  Magistrate  who  greatly  resented  Crow's 
interference  in  what  he  considered  to  be  a  perfectly 
obvious  and  straightforward  case.  M.  Robin  was 
a  weedy,  shabby  little  man,  with  an  unhealthy, 
yellow  skin,  and  teeth  and  fingers  which  were  deeply 
stained  with  nicotine. 

"I  am  leaving  for  London  to-day  by  the  Blue 
Train,"  Crow  explained,  "and  I  should  like  to  take 
with  me  a  photograph  of  Ernest  Boughton's  finger- 
prints, also  his  passport." 


SURPRISES     FOR     M.     PEILLE  199 

"Ah,  you  suspect  that  fellow  of  being  concerned 
with  the  murder  of  Mile.  Maguire?"  demanded  the 
Magistrate,  challengingly. 

Martin  Crow  smiled  complacently  at  the  little 
man. 

"I  wish  to  discover  all  I  can  of  that  man's  history," 
he  replied.  "You  have  his  passport  here,  M.  Peille?" 

"No,  but  I  will  ring  up  the  Brigadier  and  ask 
him  to  demand  it,"  replied  the  Commissaire  as  he 
took  up  the  telephone  receiver. 

"One  moment,  please,  M.  Peille,"  said  Crow. 
"I  consider  it  to  be  of  the  greatest  importance  that 
Boughton  should  not  be  given  further  cause  for 
thinking  that  he  is  suspected,  and " 

"He  thinks  that  already?" 

"I  believe  so — I  will  explain  all  that  later — 
may  I  suggest,  therefore,  that  the  Brigadier  goes  to 
the  Villa  Gloria  and  asks  Mile.  Trent  to  hand  him 
the  papers  of  everyone  there." 

"Yes,  yes,  he  can  do  that,"  agreed  the 
Commissaire. 

"And  may  I  further  suggest,  M.  Peille,  that  both 
Boughton  and  Alan  Berwick  are  kept  under  close 
observation,  and  that  you  take  steps  to  ensure 
the  safety  of  my  daughter,  Mile.  Beamish  and 
M.  Chart?" 

"Mon  Dieu!  You  think  that  they  are  in  danger?" 

"I  think  that  it  is  most  necessary  that  you  should 
take  every  precaution,  M.  Peille.  If  someone  had 
been  a  better  marksman  you  would  possibly  have 


200          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

been  investigating  my  assassination  this  morning. 
You  do  not  want  to  run  the  risk  of  another  attempt 
upon  someone  else?" 

"But  no.  I  realise  that  this  is  serious,"  replied 
the  Commissaire.  He  gave  a  number  and  during 
the  next  few  minutes  carried  on  a  rapid  conversation 
with  the  Brigadier  at  Roquebrune.  "The  papers 
of  Boughton  will  be  delivered  here  by  midday," 
he  said  when  he  had  finished,  "and  men  are  being 
detailed  to  protect  the  two  ladies  and  M.  Chart; 
and  others  will  watch  Boughton  and  Berwick. 
But  now,  M.  Crow,  we  are  anxious  to  hear  all  your 
news.  Please  tell  us  exactly  what  is  in  your  mind. 
Whom  do  you  suspect?" 

"There  are  two  people,  M.  Peille,  who  might  have 
wished  to  put  me  quietly  out  of  the  way.  One  is 
Boughton  whom  I  had  caught,  an  hour  previous  to 
the  shooting  incident,  trying  to  overhear  our  con- 
versation in  the  Pension  garden;  and  the  other  is 
Alan  Berwick  who,  I  discovered  last  night,  is  left- 
handed." 

"Ah  yes,  M.  Berwick!  Of  course,  he  was  visiting 
you  when  we  conversed  on  the  telephone.  You 
asked  him  to  explain  why  his  finger-print  had  been 
found  on  the  library  window?" 

Crow  related  briefly  all  that  Alan  Berwick  had 
said  when  he  had  been  questioned.  "You  notice 
something  of  special  significance  there,"  he  concluded. 

' '  You  mean  that  according  to  him  the  library  window 
was  open,  and  according  to  the  butler  it  was  closed  ?" 


SURPRISES     FOR     M.     PEILLE  2O1 

"Exactly." 

"Have  you  any  reason  for  believing  him  more 
than  you  believe  Boughton?"  asked  the  Magistrate 
as  he  began  to  roll  a  cigarette. 

"Yes,  I  have,"  Crow  replied.  "It  would  have 
been  in  Berwick's  interest  if  he  had  said  that  the 
window  was  closed." 

"Then  why  should  Boughton  have  said  it  was 
closed  and  fastened  if  it  was,  in  fact,  open?"  asked 
the  Commissaire. 

"I  assume  that  he  had  some  good  reason  for 
wishing  to  make  it  appear  that  no  one  could  have 
entered  the  room  from  the  terrace,  and  that  he 
closed  the  window  when  he  went  across  the  room  a 
few  seconds  after  he  had  entered." 

"Tell  me,  frankly,  M.  Crow,  is  it  in  your  mind 
that  that  man  committed  the  murder?" 

"No,  M.  Peille,  it  is  not.  As  I  have  already  told 
you,  I  am  convinced  that  the  blow  was  struck  by 
a  man  who  used  his  left  hand — a  straight,  perfectly 
judged  blow  which  fell  in  exactly  the  right  spot — 
and  I  have  good  reason  for  supposing  that  Boughton 
is  right-handed  and  does  things  clumsily  with  his 
left." 

"You  think  it  possible  that  the  actual  blow  was 
struck  by  Berwick,  and  that  he  was  assisted  by 
Boughton?"  asked  M.  Peille. 

"That  is  a  view  which  my  daughter  is  inclined 
to  take,"  Crow  replied,  "and  at  the  moment  I  am 
not  prepared  to  offer  an  opinion  on  that  point. 


202          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

Berwick  is,  without  question,  left-handed,  but  I 
do  not  think  that  he  would  have  the  nerve  to  take  a 
hook  from  the  gullet  of  a  struggling  fish." 

The  Examining  Magistrate  coughed,  as  if  to  call 
attention  to  the  fact  that  he  was  present. 

"I  think,  M.  le  Commissaire,"  he  said,  "that  our 
friend  here  is  confusing  this  simple  case  by  intro- 
ducing his  far-fetched  theory  about  the  left-handed 
blow.  Personally  I  do  not  think  that  anyone  could 
possibly  decide  that  point,  either  way.  The  report 
of  Dr.  Journet,  which  you  showed  me  this  morning, 
practically  confirms  my  view." 

M.  Peille  drummed  his  fingers  on  the  edge  of 
his  desk. 

"I  must  admit  that  I  agree  with  you  on  that  point, 
M.  Robin,"  he  said  after  a  short  pause,  "but  we 
must  not  forget  that  M.  Crow  has  brought  to  light 
several  facts  which  cannot  be  ignored;  therefore, 
in  spite  of  my  own  opinion,  and  yours,  I  do  not  feel 
disposed  to  dismiss,  altogether,  his  left-handed 
blow  theory.  It  may  be  right.  You  do  not  think 
that  it  was  Berwick  who  fired  the  shot  at  you,  M. 
Crow?" 

"Frankly  I  do  not,  although  my  daughter  saw  him 
near  the  Pension  gate  a  few  seconds  after  the  shot 
was  fired." 

"And  yet  you  are  inclined  to  think  that  it  was  the 
butler?" 

"Yes." 

"You  must  have  some  good  reason  for  suspecting 


SURPRISES     FOR     M.     PEILLE  203 

him,"  said  the  Examining  Magistrate,  whose  lighted 
cigarette  was  adding  to  the  rich  bronze  colour  of  his 
first  and  second  fingers. 

"Yes,  M.  Robin,  I  have  very  good  reasons  indeed," 
Crow  replied,  sharply.  "Everything  that  I  hear 
about  Ernest  Boughton  increases  my  suspicions 
against  him.  Last  night  I  visited  two  of  the  Cafe- 
Bars  in  the  quartier  and  at  one  of  them  learnt  that 
he  had  been  there  two  or  three  times  last  week,  and 
as  recently  as  last  Monday  night,  in  the  company 
of  an  Englishman  whose  description  suggests  to 
me  that  he  was  the  individual  whom  I  asked  the 
Commissaire  to  trace,  Charles  Carthew." 

"But  this  is  interesting,  M.  Crow!"  exclaimed 
M.  Peille. 

"You  have  heard  nothing  from  your  enquiries 
about  Carthew?" 

"Nothing,  M.  Crow.  In  so  short  a  time  it  has 
hardly  been  possible  to  visit  all  the  small  hotels  and 
pensions  where  he  may  have  been  staying." 

"Now  you  will  understand  why  I  am  anxious  to 
know  more  about  the  butler." 

"But  yes,  you  have  reason,  M.  Crow.  I  compre- 
hend the  line  you  are  taking." 

"Then  while  I  am  in  England,  M.  Peille,  perhaps 
you  will  continue  your  efforts  to  trace  that  man 
Carthew.  He  and  Boughton  were,  apparently, 
greatly  concerned  about  something  when  they  were 
talking  together  in  the  Bar  Imbert  on  Monday 
night.  Before  they  left  Boughton  asked  Madame  for 


204         CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

a  railway  time-table  which  must  have  been  required 
for  Charles  Carthew,  and  I  am  hoping  that  enquiries 
made  at  the  railway  stations  along  the  coast  may 
result  in  your  discovering  his  whereabouts.  It  is 
more  than  likely  that  he  took  the  last  train  that  night 
to  Marseilles,  and  from  there  crossed  over  to  Corsica." 

"Corsica!"  exclaimed  the  Commissaire.  "But 
why  should  he  have  gone  there?" 

"I  cannot  tell  you,  but  the  island  was  mentioned 
several  times  in  the  hearing  of  Mme.  Imbert." 

"Well,  it  is  just  possible  that  he  may  be  able 
to  tell  us  something,  M.  Crow,  and,  in  deference  to 
your  wishes,  I  will  see  what  can  be  done.  We  will 
start  by  making  enquiries  at  the  railway  stations  in 
this  region  and  then  we  will  ask  the  police  at 
Marseilles  and  Ventimiglia  to  assist  us." 

Martin  Crow  stood  up. 

"Thank  you,  M.  Peille,"  he  said.  "Then  I  shall 
return  at  midday  for  the  papers  and  the  photographs. 
May  I  remind  you  that  Mile.  Beamish  will  be 
coming  to  see  M.  Maguire  this  afternoon?" 

"Yes,  yes,  of  course.  I  have  not  forgotten.  Until 
midday,  then." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

MARTIN   CROW  MAKES   DISCOVERIES 

WITHIN  an  hour  of  his  arrival  in  London 
Martin  Crow  was  being  shown  into  the  com- 
fortably furnished  room  of  his  old  friend,  Sir  Edward 
Berring,  the  Assistant  Commissioner  at  Scotland 
Yard. 

"What,  back  from  the  sunny  south  already?" 
exclaimed  Sir  Edward  as  they  shook  hands.  He  was 
a  tall,  straight  man,  with  a  short  grey  moustache, 
keen,  blue  eyes,  and  a  light-hearted  manner.  He  wore 
a  monocle. 

"For  a  few  days  only,"  replied  Crow,  as  he  dropped 
into  an  easy  chair  and  stretched  out  his  long  legs 
towards  the  blazing  fire.  It  was  a  cold,  boisterous 
day,  and  heavy  sleet  was  driving  across  the  Embank- 
ment, almost  entirely  obliterating  the  view  of  the 
river.  "I  want  your  assistance,  my  dear  fellow." 

"A  case?"  Martin  Crow  nodded.  "I  thought 
you  were  taking  a  month's  holiday  by  Gerry's  orders, 
and  under  her  supervision?" 

Crow  chuckled. 

"I  thought  so,  too,  but  we  tumbled  right  on  top 
of  a  murder  which  simply  defied  us  to  stand  by  and 
do  nothing,  so  my  holiday  came  to  an  abrupt  end, 

205 


206          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

as  you  can  well  imagine.  I  dare  say  you  have  seen 
something  about  it  in  the  papers;  the  'affaire  of 
the  Villa  Gloria'?" 

"Yes,  I  was  reading  about  it  last  night:  an 
elderly  English  woman  done  to  death  by  a  nephew, 
or  something  of  the  sort,  wasn't  it?" 

"Let  us  say — 'supposed  by  the  French  police  to 
have  been  murdered  by  the  nephew' — and  then 
you've  got  it,"  said  Crow. 

"From  which  I  can  conclude  that  you  are  working 
for  the  young  man?"  Crow  nodded  again.  "Well, 
Martin,  how  can  we  help  you  here?" 

Crow  outlined  the  case,  and  then  took  a  large 
envelope  from  his  pocket. 

"I  want  you  to  look  through  your  files  and  see  if 
you  can  place  these,"  he  said,  handing  the  photo- 
graphs of  Boughton's  finger-prints  to  his  friend. 
"I  must  tell  you  that  I  have  no  reason  for  supposing 
that  the  fellow's  been  through  your  hands,  but  there's 
the  chance  that  he  has,  and  if  you  have  a  record 
of  him  it  may  go  a  very  long  way  towards  helping 
me  to  secure  the  speedy  release  of  the  accused." 

"Whose  are  these?"  asked  the  Assistant  Com- 
missioner, as  he  looked  at  the  photographs. 

"The  butler's  at  the  Villa  Gloria.  A  man  named 
Ernest  Boughton." 

Sir  Edward  touched  a  bell  on  his  desk  and  after 
a  few  moments  it  was  answered  by  a  girl. 

"I  want  you  to  take  these  at  once  to  Chief- 
Inspector  Epping,"  he  said,  handing  her  the  envelope. 


CROW     MAKES     DISCOVERIES  2OJ 

"Please  ask  him  to  search  the  files  and  let  me  have  a 
report  as  soon  as  possible." 

"Very  good,  Sir  Edward." 

The  girl  went  noiselessly  from  the  room. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  in  a  hurry  for  the  information  ? " 
Sir  Edward  asked  as  he  lighted  a  cigarette  and  leant 
back  in  his  swivel  chair. 

"As  far  as  I,  personally,  am  concerned,  there 
is  no  immediate  hurry,"  Crow  replied,  "but  I  should 
like  to  get  young  Maguire  free  as  soon  as  possible. 
I  don't  imagine  that  it  is  particularly  pleasant  being 
shut  up  in  a  prison  cell  at  Nice.  It's  beginning  to 
get  warm  down  there." 

"Perpetual  sunshine,  I  suppose,"  said  Sir  Edward 
as  he  glanced  towards  the  window. 

"More  or  less." 

"You're  a  lucky  devil,  Martin.  I'd  give  anything 
to  be  able  to  drop  down  to  the  Riviera  for  two  or 
three  weeks.  We've  had  nothing  but  rain  and  sleet 
for  the  last  month,  and  it's  been  damnably  cold." 

Martin  Crow  smiled. 

"And  it  wouldn't  trouble  me  at  all  if  I  knew  that  I 
wasn't  going  back,"  he  said.  "It's  all  very  delightful 
in  its  way;  flowers,  sunshine,  and  meals  cooked  with 
imagination,  but  there's  a  good  deal  to  be  said  for 
the  comforts  of  one's  own  home,  whatever  the  weather 
may  be  outside.  And  as  you  know,  I'm  never  happier 
than  when  I'm  working  hard." 

"You'd  better  come  and  try  my  job,  if  you  want 
hard  work." 


208          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Get  along  with  you,  you  old  fraud,"  laughed 
Crow,  "I  believe  you've  got  one  of  the  softest  jobs 
in  London.  Are  they  keeping  you  on  the  run?" 

"There's  always  someone  ready  to  worry  us.  At 
the  moment  we  are  chiefly  concerned  with  a  couple 
of  front  page  murders,  and  a  gang  of  International 
jewel  thieves  who  are  making  a  damned  nuisance 
of  themselves.  I " 

The  telephone  on  Sir  Edward's  desk  buzzed 
and  as  he  began  to  converse  with  someone  Crow 
stood  up. 

"When  are  you  likely  to  have  any  news  for  me?" 
the  latter  asked  as  the  Assistant  Commissioner  put 
down  the  receiver. 

"  I  think  if  you  come  along  sometime  in  the  morning 
we  ought  to  have  something  for  you.  When  are  you 
returning  to  Roquebrune?" 

"As  soon  as  I  have  learnt  all  there  is  to  know 
about  this  man  Boughton,  and  made  a  few  enquiries 
about  another  fellow  in  the  Midlands." 

"How  about  dining  with  us  one  evening?" 

"There  is  nothing  that  I'd  like  better,  my  dear 
Edward,  but  I'd  sooner  not  tie  myself  just  at  the 
moment.  I  might  be  anywhere  in  the  British  Isles 
at  this  hour  to-morrow." 

"Let  us  leave  it  open  and  you  can  ring  me  up  if 
you  see  a  free  evening  ahead  of  you,"  said  Sir  Edward 
as  they  parted  at  the  door. 

When  Martin  Crow  reached  the  street  he  turned 
up  his  coat  collar  and  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets 


CROW     MAKES     DISCOVERIES  2OQ 

— he  never  carried  an  umbrella — and  walked  across 
Parliament  Square  to  the  Passport  Office  where  he 
showed  Boughton's  passport  to  an  official,  with 
whom  he  had  had  previous  dealings,  and  asked  if 
he  might  be  supplied  with  all  particulars  relating 
to  its  issue.  He  told  the  man  that  he  would  call 
again  the  next  day,  and  then  faced  the  wind  and  the 
sleet  once  more.  Outside  the  Abbey  he  hailed  a 
taxi  and  drove  to  his  home  in  King's  Bench 
Walk. 

Crow  and  his  daughter  lived  on  the  top  floor  of 
a  house  at  the  lower  end  of  the  row,  and  the  floor 
below  was  given  up  to  their  offices  which  they 
occupied  with  Miss  Lane,  Crow's  secretary,  and 
two  girl  typists.  One  of  the  rooms  on  this  floor 
was  known  as  "the  library"  and,  besides  containing 
many  bound  volumes  dealing  with  crime,  it  housed 
a  record,  in  the  form  of  carefully  indexed  newspaper 
reports,  of  all  the  principal  trials  which  had  taken 
place  during  the  last  twenty-five  years.  Many  of 
these  reports  had  been  cut  from  Continental  papers 
and  related  to  crimes  committed  in  almost  every 
part  of  the  world.  Crow  was  very  proud  of  his 
collection. 

"Mr.  Lomax  is  waiting  to  see  you,  Mr.  Crow," 
said  Miss  Lane  as  her  employer  entered  the  office. 
She  was  an  efficient,  prim  little  person  who  had  a 
deep  affection  for  Crow  and  had  already  given  him 
a  warm  welcome  when  he  had  first  arrived  from 
the  train  a  couple  of  hours  previously. 


CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"  It  doesn't  take  you  long  to  do  a  job,  my  dear," 
Crow  remarked,  as  he  passed  into  his  own  room. 

Miss  Lane  did  not  permit  herself  to  show  her 
appreciation  of  his  compliment. 

"He  did  not  happen  to  be  far  away,"  she  replied. 

"At  the  Boar's  Head,  I  suppose?" 

"Yes.    Will  you  see  him  at  once?" 

"Please." 

Crow  went  across  the  room  and  stood  looking  out 
of  the  window  until  he  heard  a  voice  behind  him. 

"Afternoon,  Mr.  Crow,"  said  a  seedy,  cross-eyed 
little  man  who  was  running  his  hand  nervously  over 
his  close-cropped  head.  "Miss  Lane  seems  to  think 
you  may  have  a  job  for  me." 

"Quite  right,  Lomax,  I  have.  Sit  down  and  light 
up  if  you  want  to.  Can  you  get  away  for  two  or  three 
days?" 

"For  as  long  as  you  like,  Mr.  Crow,"  replied 
Henry  Lomax  as  he  sat  down  and  began  to  fill  his 
pipe  from  a  battered  old  tin.  "Things  are  a  bit 
slack  just  now." 

"I'm  sorry  to  hear  that  for  your  sake,"  said  Crow, 
"and  yet  it  happens  to  suit  me  very  well  just  at  the 
moment.  I  want  you  to  go  to  Church  Mortimer 
and  see  what  you  can  learn  about  a  young  man  named 
Alan  Berwick.  You  will  probably  find  that  his  mother 
is  a  person  of  some  little  importance  in  the  district, 
and  himself  a  young  man  of  some  notoriety. 
I  suggest  that  you  nose  round  the  village  and 
pick  up  scraps  of  information  from  the  villagers. 


CROW     MAKES     DISCOVERIES  211 

Try  the  local  pub.  Here's  a  fiver  for  you.  I  would 
like  you  to  get  off  to-night.  As  soon  as  you  get  hold 
of  anything  go  to  some  neighbouring  village  and, 
without  making  mention  of  any  names,  except  your 
own,  report  to  Miss  Lane  over  the  telephone.  Perhaps 
you  had  better  ring  her  up  to-morrow  night  in  any 
case.  She  may  have  some  instructions  for  you." 

"I  understand,  Mr.  Crow.  Do  you  want  me  to 
work  on  the  Q-T?" 

"I  don't  much  care  how  you  work  so  long  as  you 
learn  something  about  Alan  Berwick.  You  can  ask 
Miss  Lane  to  look  up  the  trains  for  you  as  you  go  out." 

"Thank  you,  sir.  Trust  me.  I'll  find  out  anything 
there  is  to  be  found  out." 

"I  believe  you  will,  Lomax.    Well,  good  luck." 

The  seedy  little  man  went  out  of  the  room  and 
Martin  Crow  took  up  a  pencil  and  began  to  make 
sketches  on  his  blotter.  It  was  Miss  Lane's  only 
complaint  against  her  employer  that  he  ruined  every 
fresh  sheet  of  blotting  paper  by  drawing  little  men 
and  women,  cats  and  dogs,  horses  and  birds  all  over 
them,  both  in  pencil  and  ink.  It  was  his  usual 
practice  to  do  this  when  he  was  concentrating  upon 
some  problem. 

Yes,  old  Lomax  would  certainly  not  miss  much, 
Crow  reflected.  He  was  a  keen  fellow  who  had  fallen 
upon  evil  times.  Once  he  had  been  a  solicitor's 
trusted  head  clerk,  and  would  have  been  one  to-day 
if  an  unfortunate  lapse  had  not  landed  him  in  jail 
for  five  years.  Now  he  eked  out  a  precarious  living 


212          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

by  doing  such  jobs  as  Crow  had  just  given  him. 
Many  an  unfortunate  respondent  and  co-respondent 
in  the  Divorce  Court  had  to  thank  Henry  Lomax 
for  the  position  in  which  he  found  himself. 

Martin  Crow  had  thrown  down  his  pencil  and 
was  staring  abstractedly  at  his  drawings  when  there 
came  a  knock  at  the  door  and  Miss  Lane  entered. 

"I  have  just  received  this  report  from  Smithers," 
she  said  looking  at  her  shorthand  note-book.  "Alan 
Berwick  was  born  in  1907,  was  educated  at  Winchester 
and  Oxford,  read  with  Hugh  Maters,  was  called  in 
'32,  but  does  not  appear  to  have  made  any  attempt  to 
practise." 

" Hm,  much  as  I  thought,"  murmured  Crow.  "Any 
indication  of  where  he  lives?" 

"He  doesn't  seem  to  have  any  permanent  address 
apart  from  his  mother's  place  near  Church  Stretton." 

"Also  as  I  expected.    Is  that  all?" 

"Yes." 

"Thank  you.  No  doubt  Lomax  will  discover 
something  more  interesting.  I  told  him  to  ring  you 
up  directly  he  has  anything  to  report." 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Crow." 

The  next  morning  Londoners  revelled  in  bright 
sunshine  and  Martin  Crow  enjoyed  a  walk  along  the 
Embankment  to  Scotland  Yard.  The  Assistant 
Commissioner  was  engaged  and  Crow  was  compelled 
to  wait  for  half  an  hour  before  he  was  asked  to  go 
along  to  Sir  Edward's  room. 


CROW     MAKES     DISCOVERIES  213 

"You've  come  just  at  the  right  moment,  my  dear 
Martin,"  said  Sir  Edward  who  sat  at  his  desk  with 
a  typewritten  report  before  him.  "Sit  down  and 
.  .  .  oh  no,  I  always  forget  that  you  don't  smoke. 
Well,  I've  just  received  this  screed  from  Chief- 
Inspector  Epping  and  it  seems  that  your  man, 
Boughton,  is  fairly  well  known  here.  His  real 
name  appears  to  be  Ernest  Rayner.  He  was  born 
in  London  in  1885,  and  first  came  under  our  notice 
in  1910  when  he  got  five  years  for  fraud.  He  served 
in  France  during  the  war  and  made  his  next  appear- 
ance in  our  records  in  '27.  For  three  years  he  had 
been  running  a  Bucket  Shop  of  the  most  disreputable 
kind  with  his  brother,  Charles,  who  disappeared 
a  week  or  two  before  warrants  were  issued  for  their 
arrest.  Ernest  was  put  in  the  dock  and  got  seven 
years.  He  gained  his  full  remission  marks  and  has 
not  troubled  us  again.  That  seems  to  be  all  that 
we  know  about  him." 

"Enough,"  said  Crow,  with  satisfaction.  "I  seem 
to  have  a  faint  recollection  of  the  case  which,  if  I 
remember  correctly,  lasted  for  several  days.  You 
have  no  idea  of  what  happened  to  the  brother." 

"  None.  It  is  assumed  that  he  got  out  of  the  country 
and  has  remained  out.  I  suppose  you  will  be  counting 
on  his  being  your  other  man,  Charles  .  .  .  ?" 

"Carthew.  That  is  certainly  what  I  am  hoping, 
although  I  have  nothing  more  to  go  on  but  the  name," 
Crow  replied.  "  I  take  it  that  he  is  liable  to  be  arrested 
at  any  time  if  he  shows  up  in  England?" 


214          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Undoubtedly." 

"Can  you  give  me  the  date  when  the  trial 
commenced?" 

Sir  Edward  referred  to  the  report. 

"May  1 5th,  1927." 

"Dear  me,  that  is  all  vastly  interesting,  and  I 
am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  my  dear  Edward," 
said  Crow  as  he  got  up.  "I  think  I'll  get  back  and 
hunt  up  my  Times  reports.  It  is  sure  to  be  amongst 
them." 

"Yes,  you  should  get  plenty  of  useful  details 
from  them,"  said  the  Assistant  Commissioner. 
"And  don't  forget  that  if  there  is  anything  more 
you  want  to  know  we  are  at  your  disposal.  Don't 
be  afraid  to  ask." 

"I  think  it  is  more  than  likely  that  I  may  want 
to  worry  you  again  before  very  long,"  Crow  said, 
as  he  took  up  his  broad  brimmed  hat  and  squashed 
it  down  on  the  top  of  his  great  head.  "What  a  thing 
it  is  to  be  well  in  with  the  mighty  ones." 

Sir  Edward  smiled. 

"I  might  return  the  compliment,  my  dear  Martin," 
he  said.  "I  don't  mind  admitting  that  you  have 
saved  our  faces  on  more  than  one  occasion.  What  a 
thing  it  is  to  have  a  friendly  ghost  with  brains  at 
one's  shoulder." 

"Rot,  Edward.  Rot!  My  brains  are  no  brighter 
than  any  others,"  replied  Crow  in  his  modest  way. 
"I  frankly  admit  that  I'm  a  lucky  devil.  Most  of 
my  successes  are  due  to  a  generous  slice  of  luck." 


CROW     MAKES     DISCOVERIES  215 

"A  lot  depends  upon  knowing  where  to  look  for 
the  slice,"  replied  the  Assistant  Commissioner, 
as  they  parted. 

Miss  Lane  produced  the  Times  reports  on  the 
trial  of  Ernest  Rayner.  As  Crow  thought,  it  had 
occupied  several  days  at  the  Old  Bailey  and  the 
prisoner  had  conducted  his  own  defence.  He  had, 
apparently,  taken  up  an  aggrieved  attitude  which 
had  at  once  created  an  adverse  impression  upon 
both  the  judge  and  the  jury.  The  two  brothers, 
Ernest  and  Charles,  had  been  trading  under  the  name 
of  E.  &  C.  Lancing  &  Co.,  and  had  occupied  offices 
in  Gray's  Inn  Road.  From  there  they  had  circularised 
a  large  number  of  people  of  small  means  and  had 
tempted  them  to  part  with  their  money  by  promising 
quick  and  handsome  profits,  and  absolute  security 
of  capital.  They  had  commenced  their  operations 
by  confining  them  to  American  Railways  and  similar 
fluctuating  securities;  but  as  the  business  expanded 
they  were  tempted  to  advise  their  clients  to  invest 
their  money  in  companies  which  did  not  exist.  No 
proper  account  had  been  kept  and  it  was  difficult 
to  estimate  the  extent  of  the  fraud,  but  the  prosecu- 
tion declared  that  the  Rayners,  who  had  been  poor 
men  when  they  were  demobilised,  had,  for  some 
time,  each  been  living  at  the  rate  of  £1,000  or 
£1,500  a  year.  Ernest  had  a  house  at  Maidenhead 
and  Charles  occupied  a  flat  in  South  Kensington. 

When  he  went  into  the  witness-box  Ernest  Rayner 


2l6          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

took  full  responsibility  for  the  conduct  of  the  business, 
and  said  that  his  brother  had  been  little  more  than 
a  sleeping  partner,  visiting  the  offices  once  or  twice 
a  week.  Under  pressure,  however,  Ernest  admitted 
that  Charles's  attendances  might  sometimes  have 
amounted  to  three  or  four  during  a  week.  It  was 
obvious  that  he  was  trying  to  shield  his  brother. 
Every  effort  was  made  to  discover  the  whereabouts 
of  Charles,  but  counsel  for  the  prosecution  could 
get  nothing  out  of  Ernest,  on  that  point,  beyond 
a  declaration  that  his  brother  had  suddenly  dis- 
appeared and  that  he  had  not  heard  from  him  since. 

When  he  had  finished  reading  the  reports  Martin 
Crow,  entirely  forgetful  of  the  time,  put  on  his  hat 
and  walked  along  to  the  passport  office,  where  he 
was  told  that  Ernest  Boughton's  passport  appeared 
to  be  in  order;  that  it  had  been  applied  for  through 
one  of  the  leading  travel  agencies;  and  that  a  Dr 
Mason,  of  Church  Mortimer,  had  vouched  for  the 
identity  of  the  applicant. 

As  he  regained  the  street  Crow  stood  for  some 
minutes  watching  the  passing  traffic  and  wondering 
what  he  should  do  next.  It  was  long  past  his  usual 
luncheon  hour,  but  he  did  not  think  of  that.  He  was 
a  little  disappointed,  having  vaguely  hoped  that  he 
would  have  been  told  that  the  passport  had  been 
forged.  Such  a  discovery  would,  undoubtedly,  have 
impressed  M.  Peille  and  have  induced  him,  perhaps, 
to  liberate  Michael  Maguire.  Well,  he  could  not  have 
it  all  his  own  way.  The  name  of  the  doctor  at  Church 


CROW     MAKES     DISCOVERIES 

Mortimer  was  worth  having.  He  would  have  to 
make  a  journey  to  Shropshire,  but  he  also  wanted  to 
pay  a  visit  to  Maidenhead.  Which  demanded  his 
attention  first?  After  a  while  he  decided  that  he 
would  go  to  Maidenhead  without  delay,  and,  hailing 
a  taxi,  he  drove  to  Paddington  where  he  found  that 
he  would  have  to  wait  half  an  hour  for  a  train. 
Becoming  conscious  of  an  empty  feeling  he  filled 
in  the  time  by  visiting  the  refreshment  room,  where 
he  ate  a  couple  of  ham  sandwiches  and  drank  a 
glass  of  milk. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

MARTIN   CROW  VISITS   MAIDENHEAD 

A^  hour  later  Martin  Crow  was  making  enquiries 
at  Maidenhead  for  Ditton  Lodge  and  was 
directed  to  a  medium-sized  house  standing  in  a 
pleasant  garden  on  the  Windsor  Road.  A  postman 
who  happened  to  be  passing  was  questioned. 

"Can  you  tell  me  if  any  of  the  people  in  these 
houses  were  living  here  in  1926?"  Crow  asked  the 
man  who  lifted  his  hat  and  scratched  his  head, 
meditatively. 

"Living  here  in  1926,"  he  repeated,  dully. 
"That's  a  goodish  time  ago." 

"Eight  years,  to  be  exact.  Was  that  before  your 
time  here?" 

"Lord  bless  you  no.  I've  been  doing  this  round 
for  the  last  eighteen  years.  Now,  just  let  me  think." 

The  postman  scratched  his  head  again  and  then 
rubbed  his  chin. 

"Yes,"  he  said  at  length.  "Unless  I'm  very  much 
mistaken,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Potts  was  here  then;  in 
fact  they  was  one  of  the  first  to  come  here  when  those 
houses  was  built." 

"Where  do  they  live?" 

"The  Laurels,  just  opposite.  She  breeds  Pekes." 
218 


CROW     VISITS     MAIDENHEAD  219 

"Breeds  what?"  asked  Crow. 

"Pekes.  You  know,  them  small  dogs  with  curly 
tails  and  faces  what  look  as  if  they've  been  stood 
on." 

"I  understand.  Did  you  by  any  chance  know  Mr. 
Rayner  who  used  to  live  at  Ditton  Lodge?" 

"What,  the  bloke  what  got  run  in  for  fraud? 
Lord,  yes,  I  knew  him  and  a  nice  gentleman  he 
always  seemed  to  be.  Always  gave  me  a  bigger 
Christmas  box  than  anyone  else.  But  you  can 
never  tell,  can  you?" 

"No,  I  suppose  not,"  Crow  agreed.  "Thank  you, 
I  am  much  obliged,"  and  he  slipped  a  shilling  into 
the  man's  hand. 

The  Laurels  was  a  similar  house  to  Ditton  Lodge 
and  the  two  gardens  were  separated  by  a  high  laurel 
hedge.  Martin  Crow  walked  up  the  drive  and  rang 
the  bell.  Immediately  there  was  an  excited  chorus 
of  yelping  dogs,  and  when  the  door  was  opened  half 
a  dozen  of  them  swarmed  round  his  legs. 

"Good  afternoon,"  he  said  to  the  plump,  smiling 
little  man  who  wore  a  shabby  plus-four  suit  and 
gazed  enquiringly  at  the  visitor.  "Are  you  Mr. 
Potts?" 

"Yes.  Good  afternoon."  Crow  imagined  that  he 
was  probably  taken  for  a  prospective  Peke  buyer. 

"I  must  apologise  for  troubling  you  but  I  was 
informed  that  you  had  been  living  here  for  a  good 
many  years,  and  I  am  anxious  to  learn  all  I  can  about 
a  man  named  Ernest  Rayner  who " 


220          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"What,  old  Ernie  Rayner,  of  Ditton  Lodge? 
Well  I'll  be  blowed.  Fancy  anyone  wanting  to  know 
anything  about  him  now.  I  thought  he  was  forgotten 
and  done  with  long  ago.  Come  inside  Mr. ?" 

"My  name  is  Crow." 

"Come  in,  Mr.  Crow,  and  we'll  see  what  we  can 
tell  you,"  said  Mr.  Potts  as  he  held  the  door  open. 

Martin  Crow  entered  a  stuffy,  heavily-furnished 
hall  and  was  shown  into  the  dining-room.  The  six 
pekinese  scrambled  in  front  of  him  and  at  once  took 
possession  of  all  the  comfortable  chairs. 

"  Sit  down,  Mr.  Crow,  and  make  yourself  at  home. 
What  can  I  offer  you  to  drink?" 

"Nothing,  thank  you;  I  have  only  just  had  my 
lunch." 

"But  you  must  have  something.  I'm  going  to 
have  a  whisky  and  soda  myself.  Or  would  you 
sooner  have  a  glass  of  sherry?" 

Martin  Crow  had  no  desire  to  drink  anything,  but 
he  knew  Mr.  Pott's  type;  matey  and  loquacious 
when  humoured. 

"A  very  small  glass  of  sherry,  then,  if  you  please." 

"Ah,  that's  better,"  said  the  host  as  he  went 
across  to  the  sideboard  and  began  to  pour  out  the 
drinks.  "Why,  bless  you,  we  was  reel  pally  with  old 
Ernie  Rayner  during  the  two  years  that  he  had 
Ditton  Lodge;  and  never  a  suspicion  did  we  have 
that  anything  was  wrong  until  we  heard  that  he'd 
been  arrested.  He  always  made  out  to  us  that  he 
was  a  member  of  the  Stock  Exchange,  and  we  never 


CROW     VISITS     MAIDENHEAD  221 

had  any  reason  for  disbelieving  him."  Mr.  Potts 
came  back  to  the  table  in  the  centre  of  the  room 
and  handed  Crow  his  glass  of  sherry.  "Cheerio! 
Now  what  is  it  that  you  want  to  know  about 
him?" 

Crow  raised  his  glass,  sipped  his  wine  and  then 
leant  back  in  the  very  uncomfortable  arm  chair 
which  he  had  been  compelled  to  take  because  the 
dogs  were  occupying  all  the  others. 

"I  am  investigating  a  case  in  which  the  same 
Ernest  Rayner  is  probably  concerned  and " 

"Are  you  a  detective?" 

"No,  I  am  not,"  Crow  replied.  "I  am  an  ordinary 
private  individual  who  happens  to  have  become 
connected  with  this  case  in  which  your  former 
neighbour  may  have  taken  a  part;  and  it  occurred  to 
me  that  you  might  be  in  a  position  to  tell  me  some- 
thing about  him." 

"You  bet  I  can  tell  you  plenty,"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Potts  with  relish.  He  was  going  to  experience  all 
those  old  thrills  again.  How  well  he  remembered 
being  questioned  by  people  while  the  trial  was 
taking  place;  being  asked  if  he  had  ever  suspected 
Rayner  of  being  a  swindler;  and  whether  he  had 
been  persuaded  to  part  with  any  of  his  money. 
Neither  he  nor  Mrs.  Potts  ever  admitted  to  anyone 
that  they  had  never  seen  a  single  penny  of  £200  which 
they  had  once  handed  to  Ernest  Rayner. 

"I  should  like  to  tell  you  that  the  result  of  my 
enquiries  may  mean  life  or  death  to  a  young  man  who 


222          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

is  now  charged  with  a  crime  which,  I  am  confident, 
he  never  committed." 

Mr.  Potts  put  down  his  glass  and  let  out  a  long 
whistle. 

"Murder?"  he  asked,  eagerly. 

"That  is  the  charge,"  replied  Crow,  feeling 
certain  that  Potts  would  be  unlikely  to  make  any 
attempt  to  warn  Ernest  Boughton,  even  if  it  were 
in  his  power  to  do  so. 

"And  you  think  that  Rayner  did  it?" 

"  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  he  could  give  me  informa- 
tion which  would  exonerate  the  young  man  whom 
I  have  mentioned.  I  do  not  think  that  he  actually 
committed  the  crime,  but  it  is  quite  likely  that  he 
was  an  accessory." 

"Well  I'm  jiggered!  Live  and  learn;  that's  what 
I'm  always  telling  my  wife.  But  of  course,  when  a 
fellow  makes  one  side-slip  he  usually  goes  from 
bad  to  worse,  sooner  or  later.  As  I  told  you 
just  now,  we  never  suspected  a  thing.  He  always 
seemed  to  be  such  a  decent  sort;  hospitable, 
liberal  with  his  money,  and  nice  mannered.  He 
used  to  subscribe  to  all  the  local  charities. 
Ha!  Damned  queer!  I  suppose  the  blighter 
could  afford  to  be  generous  with  other  people's 
money." 

"For  how  long  did  you  know  him,  Mr.  Potts?" 

"Why,  we  had  him  next  door  for  about  two  years. 
Many's  the  time  that  he's  had  a  meal  with  us  in  this 
very  room;  and  we  was  in  and  out  of  his  place, 


CROW     VISITS     MAIDENHEAD  223 

dining  and  playing  Bridge,  all  the  time,  as  you  might 
say.  Have  you  met  him?" 

"I  believe  I  have." 

"Then  you'll  probably  understand  how  people 
might  be  taken  in  by  his  pleasant  manners.  On  the 
surface  he  appeared  to  be  the  reel  gentleman;  civil 
and  the  acme  of  hospitality  itself.  Not  that  he  ever 
splashed  his  money  about  ostentatiously,  but  he 
knew  how  to  do  things  well;  gave  you  a  damned 
good  dinner,  and  knew  how  to  choose  his  wine. 
Never  gave  you  a  drop  of  second  rate  stuff.  Every- 
thing of  the  best,  always." 

"What  sort  of  an  establishment  did  he  keep  up?" 

"A  cook-housekeeper  and  a  couple  of  maids. 
Nothing  showy,  you  know,  but  everything  done 
just  so." 

"Did  you  ever  meet  any  of  his  relatives  or 
friends?" 

"  Friends,  yes,  people  from  round  about  we  was 
meeting  all  the  time,  of  course;  and  then  there  was 
his  brother,  a  red-haired  chap  who  used  to  come 
down  for  week-ends  sometimes;  and  there  was  his 
sister  who  was  staying  with  him  when  he  was 
run  in." 

"You  met  both  brother  and  sister?" 

"Oh  yes;  he  always  made  a  point  of  asking  us  in 
when  he  had  anyone  staying  with  him." 

"Now  what  can  you  tell  me  about  the  brother, 
Mr.  Potts?" 

"Not  a  great  deal,  I'm  afraid.    He  wasn't  unlike 


224          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

Ernie,  except  for  his  red  hair.  He  was  the  younger 
of  the  two  by  three  or  fours  years,  I  should  say. 
Quite  a  nice  chap  in  his  way,  but  a  bit  quiet  and 
reserved.  It  was  Ernie  who  had  the  brain,  of  course." 
"Had  the  brother  any  peculiarities  that  you 
noticed?" 

"None  that  I  can  call  to  mind.  He  was  quite 
a  normal  sort  of  fellow;  not  anything  like  so  matey 
as  Ernie." 

"And  the  sister,  what  was  she  like?" 
"A  nice  little  woman  in  a  quiet  way.    Not  so 
stylish  as  the  two  men,  you  know.    A  bit  dowdy, 
in  fact;  straight-laced  and  rather  churchy.    My  wife 
and  she  hit  it  off  pretty  well  together,  used  to  go 
shopping  and  to  the  pictures." 
"What  was  her  name?" 

"Lancing,  Annie  Lancing.    She  was  a  widow." 
"Do  you  happen  to  know  where  she  lived?" 
"Ah,  now  you've  done  me,  Mr.  Crow.    I  couldn't 
say;  in  fact  I  doubt  if  I  ever  knew,  but  I  dare  say 
my  wife  could  tell  you.    If  you  don't  mind  waiting 
half  a  jiffy  I'll  go  and  ask  her." 

Mr.  Potts  slid  off  the  corner  of  the  table  upon 
which  he  had  been  sitting  and  went  out  of  the 
room.  Martin  Crow  heard  him  talking  to  someone 
upstairs  and  then,  after  a  short  interval  the  door 
opened  and  the  little  man  entered  followed  by  a 
tall,  thin  woman  who  was  nervously  smoothing 
out  the  front  of  her  frock  which  she  had  obviously 
put  on  in  a  great  hurry. 


CROW     VISITS     MAIDENHEAD  225 

"This  is  my  wife,"  said  Potts,  in  his  breezy 
manner.  "Now,  Millie,  you  tell  Mr.  Crow  what 
you  know  about  that  Mrs.  Lancing." 

Mrs.  Potts  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  an  occasional 
chair  and  blinked  her  faded  eyes. 

"A  nice  little  woman  I  thought  she  was,  Mr. 
Crow;  and  I'm  sure  that  she  never  knew  what  those 
two  brothers  of  hers  were  up  to.  We  both  felt 
terribly  sorry  for  her  when  it  all  came  out,  didn't  we, 
Leslie?" 

"You  bet  we  did." 

"Do  you  happen  to  know  where  she  lived,  Mrs. 
Potts?" 

"Well,  when  we  knew  her  first  she  had  a  little 
house  at  Hampstead,  but  when  she  came  and  stayed 
with  her  brother  just  before  his  arrest,  she  told 
me  that  she'd  gone  to  live  at  Bournemouth.  I 
can't  remember  now  what  the  address  was  because 
it's  so  long  since  I  wrote  to  her,  but  I  know  it  was 
somewhere  quite  close  to  the  cemetery.  She  said 
her  husband  was  buried  there  and  she  wanted  to 
be  handy  so  that  she  could  look  after  his  grave." 

"Have  you  seen  her  since  her  brother's  trial?" 

"No,  nor  have  I  heard  from  her.  After  it  was 
all  over  I  wrote  to  tell  her  how  sorry  we  was,  and 
that  if  there  was  anything  we  could  do  for  her 
she  was  to  be  sure  to  let  us  know,  but  she  never 
replied.  Poor  thing.  I  dare  say  she  felt  so  ashamed 
that  she  wanted  to  cut  herself  off  from  everyone 
who  had  been  connected  with  that  swindling  brother 


226          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

of  hers.  So  he's  been  up  to  something  worse  than 
fraud,  Leslie  tells  me?" 

"I  would  not  commit  myself  so  far  as  to  say  that 
he  has  been  up  to  anything,"  Crow  replied,  "but 
he  happens  to  be  connected  with  a  very  serious 
case  which  I  am  investigating." 

"Well,  if  you  happen  to  see  him  you  can  tell  him 
from  me  that  we  are  a  bit  more  careful  nowadays 
who  we  make  friends  with,"  said  Mrs.  Potts. 

Crow  dismissed  the  request  with  a  smile. 

"I  wonder  if  either  of  you  ever  heard  him  mention 
the  name  Maguire?"  he  asked. 

"Maguire,  Maguire,"  repeated  Mr.  Potts.  "I 
never  heard  it;  did  you,  Millie?" 

"Not  that  I  can  remember." 

"It  happens  to  be  rather  an  important  point  and 
I  should  be  obliged  if  you  would  make  an  effort 
to  recollect." 

"Maguire,  Maguire,"  Mr.  Potts  muttered  half 
aloud  as  he  wandered  round  the  room.  "Name  seems 
to  be  a  bit  familiar  to  me  and  yet  I  can't  place  it 
in  connection  with  either  of  the  Rayners,  or  Mrs. 
Lancing." 

"No,  no  more  can  I,"  said  his  wife,  shaking  her 
head  regretfully. 

"Then  I  do  not  think  that  I  need  trouble  you 
any  further,"  said  Crow,  getting  up.  "I  am  very 
much  obliged  to  you  both  for  what  you  have  told  me." 

"Don't  mention  it,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Potts 
with  a  hearty  laugh  which  seemed  to  be  rather  out 


CROW    VISITS   MAIDENHEAD  227 

of  place.  "Only  too  glad  to  be  of  any  assistance  to 
you.  And  if  there's  anything  else  we  can  tell  you 
don't  be  afraid  to  come  and  ask." 

"I  shall  not  fail  to  take  advantage  of  your  kind 
offer,"  replied  Crow,  taking  up  his  hat.  "And 
now  I  will  wish  you  good  day." 

"Here,  have  another  drink  before  you  go?" 
"Thank  you,  I  will  have  nothing  more." 
"Won't  you  have  a  cup  of  tea,  Mr.  Crow,"  asked 
Mrs.  Potts.    "It's  half  past  four  and  I  expect  it's 
all  ready." 

"If  you  will  not  think  me  ungracious  I  will  get 
back  to  town.  I  have  a  great  deal  to  do.  Another 
day,  perhaps,  if  I  should  find  it  necessary  to  worry 
you  again." 

"Then  just  give  us  a  ring  to  say  you're  coming," 
said  Potts  as  he  gripped  his  visitor's  hand.  "  Maiden- 
head 01986,  and  make  it  lunch.  We  shall  be  glad 
to  have  another  little  talk  about  old  Ernie  Rayner." 


CHAPTER  XX 

MRS.    LANCING 

MARTIN  CROW  was  more  than  satisfied  with 
his  day's  work,  and  as  he  travelled  up  to 
Paddington  he  occupied  his  time  by  mentally  arrang- 
ing all  the  information  which  he  had  collected  since 
his  arrival  in  London  the  previous  day.  He  took 
it  for  granted  that  Charles  Rayner  and  Charles 
Carthew  were  the  same  person  and  that,  with  his 
brother,  he  had  lived  by  his  wits  until  events  made  it 
expedient  for  him  to  reside  out  of  England.  Some- 
how he  had  become  acquainted  with  Miss  Maguire, 
and  for  some  reason  she  had  been  induced  to  make 
him  an  allowance  of  £500  a  year.  Now  why  had 
she  done  that?  Had  this  man  some  legitimate 
claim  upon  her;  or  had  he  been  blackmailing  her? 
Martin  Crow  was  inclined  to  accept  the  former 
supposition.  Regular  quarterly  payments  of  £125 
by  a  wealthy  woman  did  not  savour  of  blackmail. 
Then  how  had  this  man's  brother,  Ernest,  come 
into  Miss  Maguire's  service?  Had  that  happened 
by  chance  or  by  design?  By  design,  surely,  Crow 
argued  to  himself.  He  had  entered  her  service  a  year 
or  more  before  the  quarterly  payments  had  com- 
menced; but  that  did  not  indicate  anything  definite. 

228 


MRS.     LANCING  22Q 

It  was  at  once  obvious  to  Martin  Crow  that  he 
would  have  to  pay  a  visit  to  Bournemouth  and 
try  to  get  into  touch  with  the  sister,  Mrs.  Lancing, 
whose  name  the  two  men  had  used  for  their  Bucket 
Shop  business.  She  would  have  to  be  dealt  with 
most  tactfully,  and  perhaps  it  would  be  advisable 
to  see  her  before  journeying  to  Church  Mortimer 
to  see  the  doctor  who  had  sponsored  Ernest  Boughton 
when  his  passport  was  applied  for. 

When  Crow  reached  his  home  he  found  that 
Miss  Lane  had  just  been  talking  to  Henry  Lomax 
on  the  phone.  The  latter  had  reported  that  Alan 
Berwick  was  the  shining  light  amongst  those  who 
foregathered  each  evening  in  the  saloon  bar  of  the 
Mortimer  Arms.  He  had  not  been  seen  in  the 
village  for  several  weeks,  but  had  spent  the  whole 
of  last  summer,  and  the  autumn  at  his  mother's 
house.  He  was  described  as  a  "rare  good  sport 
who  was  always  good  for  three  or  four  rounds  of 
drinks  any  evening  of  the  week."  Six  months  ago 
the  local  magistrates  had  made  an  affiliation  order 
against  him,  and  this  had  caused  a  considerable 
stir  amongst  the  gentry  of  the  district,  but  had 
not  affected  his  popularity  in  the  bar  of  the 
Mortimer  Arms.  Henry  Lomax  did  not  think  that 
there  was  much  more  to  be  found  out  about  the 
young  man,  and  a  wire  was  dispatched  ordering 
him  to  return  to  London  the  next  day. 

That  evening,  as  Martin  Crow  was  eating  his 
simple  meal,  the  post  brought  him  a  letter  from 


230          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

Gerry.  She  said  that  M.  Peille  had  paid  them 
several  visits  and  was  much  agitated  because  Alan 
Berwick  had  disappeared.  He  had  left  the  Pension 
des  Bambous  early  on  the  morning  following  his 
visit  to  the  Pension  Mireille.  The  police  had  satisfied 
themselves  that  he  had  travelled  by  a  train  to  Venti- 
miglia,  but  after  that  they  had  lost  all  trace  of  him. 
Coral  Trent  had  been  questioned,  but  could  not, 
or  would  not,  give  any  information  which  might 
lead  to  the  discovery  of  Alan's  whereabouts.  Both 
Boughton  and  Coral  were  now  being  closely  watched, 
and  it  seemed  to  be  the  Commissaire's  opinion  that 
both  of  them  and  Alan  and  Michael  had  been 
concerned  with  Miss  Maguire's  death. 

Martin  Crow  put  the  letter  down  and  went  on 
with  his  meal.  That  Michael  Maguire  was  com- 
pletely innocent  he  was  certain,  but  Alan  puzzled 
him.  He  still  held  to  his  conviction  that  the  latter 
was  too  "weak-kneed"  to  commit  murder,  but  he 
realised  that  he  might  have  played  a  minor  part 
under  the  direction  of  Boughton.  The  news  of 
Alan's  disappearance  was  certainly  interesting,  and 
might  prove  significant  later  on,  but  for  the  present 
he  did  not  consider  that  it  seriously  affected 
the  situation. 

The  next  morning  Crow  took  an  early  train  to 
Bournemouth  where  he  at  once  drove  to  the  cemetery 
and  then  began  to  make  enquiries  at  the  shops  in  the 
neighbourhood  for  Mrs.  Annie  Lancing.  At  the 
third  shop  which  he  visited,  a  greengrocer's,  he 


MRS.      LANCING  231 

learnt  that  Mrs.  Lancing  lived  at  No.  204  Belvedere 
Road  but  to  his  disappointment  he  found  the  house 
shut  up.  He  called  at  the  houses  on  either  side 
and  although  the  occupants  were,  in  each  case, 
acquainted  with  Mrs.  Lancing  they  could  not  say 
where  she  was  to  be  found.  She  had  gone  away 
about  a  week  ago.  It  was  suggested,  however, 
that  a  Mrs.  Frant,  who  lived  at  No.  203,  opposite, 
and  was  a  great  friend  of  Mrs.  Lancing,  might  be 
able  to  say  where  she  was. 

Martin  Crow  knocked  at  the  door  of  No.  203 
and  was  told  that  Mrs.  Frant  was  out  and  would 
not  be  returning  until  tea-time.  He  said  that  he  would 
call  again,  and,  making  his  way  down  to  the  town, 
walked  through  the  gardens  and  went  on  to  the 
Pier.  At  four  o'clock  he  returned  to  Belvedere  Road 
and  found  that  Mrs.  Frant  had  just  come  in.  She 
was  an  elderly,  white-haired  woman  who  eyed 
Crow  suspiciously. 

"What  can  I  do  for  you?"  she  demanded,  curtly. 

"I  am  a  lawyer,"  Crow  replied,  "and  I  am 
anxious  to  find  Mrs.  Annie  Lancing  as  soon  as 
possible." 

"You  do  not  bring  her  bad  news,  I  hope?" 
asked  Mrs.  Frant,  anxiously. 

"I  wish  to  obtain  some  important  information 
from  her." 

"I  am  glad.  I  was  afraid "  Mrs.  Frant 

paused  abruptly  and  gave  her  visitor  a  faint  smile. 
"It  does  not  matter.  I  am  expecting  Mrs.  Lancing 


232          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

to  return  to-morrow  morning.  She  has  been  taking 
a  week's  holiday  at  Weymouth." 

"Weymouth!  That  is  not  very  far  from  here. 
Perhaps  I  could  see  her  there  this  evening  if  I  motored 
over." 

"Is  it  as  urgent  as  all  .that?" 

Crow  considered  the  question  for  a  moment. 
While  he  wished  to  return  to  Roquebrune  as  soon 
as  possible  there  was  really  no  desperate  hurry. 
Perhaps  it  would  be  more  satisfactory  to  wait  and 
interview  Mrs.  Lancing  in  her  own  home. 

"No,  I  suppose  it  isn't,"  he  said.  "When  do 
you  think  I  could  see  her  to-morrow?" 

Mrs.  Frant  went  across  to  a  writing  bureau  and 
after  a  few  moments  returned  with  a  post  card. 

"I  received  this  from  her  last  night,"  she  said. 
"She  will  be  arriving  at  the  West  Station  at  eleven. 
Perhaps  if  you  called  at  about  half  past  two  that 
would  be  the  most  convenient  time." 

"Thank  you.  I  will  do  as  you  suggest,"  Crow 
said,  and  took  his  leave. 

Crow  had  taken  the  precaution  to  bring  a  small 
suitcase  which  he  had  left  at  the  station.  As  soon  as 
he  had  collected  it  from  the  cloak-room  he  walked 
on  to  the  East  Cliff  and  took  a  room  at  one  of  the 
small  hotels  which  stand  in  pine-shaded  gardens 
and  overlook  the  bay.  The  following  afternoon 
he  paid  a  third  visit  to  Belvedere  Road  and  was 
admitted  to  Mrs.  Lancing's  house  by  a  neatly- 
dressed  maid.  He  was  shown  into  a  comfortably 


MRS.     LANCING  233 

furnished  sitting-room  and  after  a  few  minutes  a 
faded  little  woman  entered,  and  hesitated  when 
she  saw  him,  as  if  his  great  size  frightened  her 
a  little. 

"I  must  apologise  for  intruding  upon  you,  Mrs. 
Lancing,"  Crow  said  in  his  gentlest  tone.  "I  am  a 
lawyer  and  have  reason  to  believe  that  you  can 
assist  me." 

Mrs.  Lancing  advanced  and  sat  down  with  her 
hands  clasped  in  her  lap.  It  was  patent  to  Martin 
Crow  that  she  was  apprehensive  about  something. 
She  appeared  to  be  too  nervous  to  speak.  He  felt 
deeply  sorry  for  her  and  wished  that  he  need  not 
trouble  her. 

"I  understand  that  you  have  two  brothers,  Mrs. 
Lancing?" 

The  little  woman  stiffened  slightly  and  met 
Crow's  eyes  bravely,  but  with  obvious  fear. 

"Yes,  I  have  two  brothers,  that  is  if  they  are  still 
alive,"  she  answered  in  a  low  voice. 

"You  have  seen  neither  of  them  lately?" 

"I  have  not  heard  of  either  of  them  for  several 
years."  She  answered  in  a  voice  which  she  could 
scarcely  control.  "Has  anything  happened  to  either 
of  them?" 

"That  is  a  question  which  I  am  unable  to  answer. 
Please  understand,  Mrs.  Lancing,  that  only  the 
greatest  necessity  would  have  induced  me  to  come 
to  you  like  this.  I  am  investigating  a  case  which 
may  be  the  ruin  of  an  innocent  young  man.  Under 


234          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

those  circumstances  I  think  you  will  appreciate  my 
difficult  position." 

"I  thought  you  said  you  were  a  lawyer?" 

"That  is  my  calling,  Madam." 

"You  spoke  as  if  you  were  a  police  officer." 

"I  am  sorry." 

"How  did  you  find  me  here?" 

"Yesterday  I  was  making  certain  enquiries  at 
Maidenhead  and  a  Mrs.  Potts  told  me  that  she 
made  your  acquaintance  some  years  ago." 

"Mrs.  Potts.  Yes,  I  knew  her  a  long  time  ago." 
A  pause  during  which  Mrs.  Lancing  allowed  her 
eyes  to  wander  round  the  walls  which  were  hung 
with  Marcus  Stone  reproductions.  "It  is  foolish  of 
me  to  shrink  from  it.  Tell  me  what  brings  you  here, 
Mr.  Crow.  Of  course  one  of  them  is  in  trouble 
again?" 

"I  cannot  answer  that  question  with  any  certainty. 
Have  you  ever  heard  of  anyone  named  Boughton?" 

"Boughton.  That  was  my  mother's  maiden  name. 
Why  do  you  ask?" 

"Because  that  is  the  name  by  which  your  brother, 
Ernest,  is  now  known.  You  did  not  know  that  he 
had  taken  that  name?" 

"No." 

"May  I  ask  when  you  saw  him  last?" 

Mrs.  Lancing  looked  down  at  the  carpet  and  her 
lips  moved  as  if  she  were  making  a  calculation. 

"It  must  have  been  about  three  years  ago,  in 
December." 


MRS.     LANCING  235 

"That  would  have  been  at  about  the  time  of  his 
.  .  .  release?" 

"Yes,"  almost  in  a  whisper. 

"He  came  to  see  you?" 

"He  wrote  to  me  first,  through  my  bank,  and 
asked  if  he  might  come." 

"And  you  said  he  might?" 

"Yes." 

"I  suppose  he  wanted  help?" 

"He  hadn't  a  penny." 

"Did  he  tell  you  what  he  proposed  doing?" 

Mrs.  Lancing  hesitated.  Crow  imagined  that  she 
was  trying  to  decide  how  much  she  should  tell  him. 
At  last  she  sighed,  as  if  she  felt  that  nothing  really 
mattered. 

"I  think  he  said  that  he  might  join  his  brother  in 
Australia." 

"Australia!    Your  brother  Charles  went  there?" 

Mrs.  Lancing  lowered  her  eyes  quickly  and  began 
to  pull  distractedly  at  a  small  lace  handkerchief 
which  lay  in  her  lap.  Martin  Crow  watched  her  in 
silence.  He  had  anticipated  and  dreaded  such  a 
scene  as  this.  His  kind  hearted  nature  revolted 
against  having  to  do  anything  which  might  cause 
pain,  and  yet  he  so  often  found  himself  compelled 
to  do  so.  But  there  was  too  much  at  stake  for  him 
to  consider  the  feelings  of  this  poor  woman. 

After  a  few  moments  Mrs.  Lancing  looked  up; 
their  eyes  met  and  in  his  she  saw  determination. 
She  gave  a  short  involuntary  cry,  and  burying  her 


236          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

face  in  her  hands  allowed  herself  to  weep  unres- 
trainedly. Martin  Crow  did  not  say  anything,  but 
got  up  and  walked  over  to  the  window.  Presently 
Mrs.  Lancing  checked  her  tears. 

"Please  forgive  me,"  she  said,  brokenly.  "I 
went  through  so  much  at  the  time  and  it  seems  as 
if  I  may  have  to  endure  it  all  over  again.  Even 
though  they  are  my  own  flesh  and  blood  I  cannot 
try  to  defend  their  past  conduct.  Ernest  got  all  he 
deserved  and  Charlie  ..."  she  paused  and  made 
a  slight  gesture  .  .  .  "for  all  I  know  he  may  be 
dead.  I  have  not  seen  him  since  before  that  terrible 
time." 

"You  have  my  sympathy,  Mrs.  Lancing,"  said 
Crow  as  he  returned  to  his  chair.  "I  have  very 
good  reason  for  supposing  that  your  brother,  Charles 
is  still  alive.  Did  you  say  that  he  went  to  Australia?" 

"I  shouldn't  have  told  you  that." 

"Did  your  brother,  Ernest,  tell  you  to  keep 
Charles's  whereabouts  a  secret?"  Mrs.  Lancing 
nodded  her  head.  "Do  you  imagine  that  he  went 
there  in  the  spring  of  1927?" 

"Yes,  that  would  have  been  the  year;  a  few  weeks 
before  all  that  trouble  began.  Ernest  made  him 

go." 

"Was  Charles  easily  influenced  by  his  brother?" 

"Yes,  always.    He  was  by  far  the  weaker.    I  am 

certain   that   it   was    Ernest   who    thought    of   that 

wretched  stocks  and  shares  business,  and  persuaded 

Charles  to  go  in  with  him.  Oh  yes,  Ernest  was  always 


MRS.     LANCING  237 

the  leader.  As  little  chaps,  I  can  remember  many 
a  childish  escapade  which  Ernest  always  thought 
of,  and  Charles,  being  passionately  devoted  to  his 
brother,  invariably  followed." 

"Do  you  imagine  that  that  devotion  has  endured  ?" 
"I  cannot  speak  about  the  present  moment,  but 
it  was  certainly  as  strong  as  ever  when  Charles 
went  away.  Ernest  realised  that  he  was  responsible 
and  insisted  upon  his  brother  keeping  out  of  the 
trouble.  I  know  that  Charles  was  willing  to  stay 
and  face  it,  but  Ernest  simply  made  him  go." 

"Are  they  alike  in  appearance,  Mrs.  Lancing?" 
"No.    Ernest  is  dark,  I  dare  say  he  is  grey  now, 
like  myself.    Charles  had  a  florid  complexion  and 
reddish  hair." 

"Have  you  any  relations  named  Maguire?" 
"Maguire?    No,  not  that  I  am  aware  of." 
"Have  you  ever  heard   either  of  your  brothers 
mention  that  name?" 

"The  name  certainly  seems  familiar,  but  I  can't 
connect  it  with  either  Charles  or  Ernest."  Sud- 
denly Mrs.  Lancing's  face  became  the  colour  of 
white  linen  and  her  lips  quivered  with  half  repressed 
agitation.  "Haven't  I  read  something  in  the  papers 
recently  about  a  woman  of  that  name  being  murdered 
on  the  Riviera?" 

"It  is  quite  possible  that  you  did." 
"You   .    .    .  you  don't   .    .    .  you  don't  mean  to 
say  that  either  of  them  had  anything  to  do  with  it. 
Oh,  for  dear  God's  sake  don't  say  that!" 


238          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"The  young  man  for  whom  I  am  working  has 
been  charged  with  murdering  that  woman,"  Crow 
answered  evasively. 

"  But  Charles  and  Ernest  ?  They  .  .  .  they  .  .  . 
oh,  why  are  you  making  all  these  enquiries  about 
them?  Were  they  connected  with  it?" 

"I  can  only  tell  you  that  your  brother,  Ernest, 
has  been  employed  for  the  last  two  years,  as  butler, 
by  the  murdered  woman." 

"Ernest  a  butler!  I  ...  I  can't  believe  it! 
There  must  be  some  mistake.  Of  course  it  could 
not  be  he.  He's  never  done  such  work  in  his  life. 
Mrs.  Lancing  appeared  to  be  less  anxious  now. 
When  he  left  school  he  went  into  a  bank.  He's 
always  been  interested  in  that  sort  of  thing;  banking 
and  stocks  and  shares.  Why,  I  doubt  if  he  would 
know  how  to  lay  a  table  properly.  No,  no,  you  must 
be  mistaken.  It  must  be  someone  else  of  the  same 
name." 

"I  am  afraid,  Mrs.  Lancing,  there  can  be  no  doubt. 
Records  at  Scotland  Yard  have  established  the  fact 
that  Ernest  Boughton,  Miss  Maguire's  butler,  and 
Ernest  Rayner  are  the  same  person."  Martin  Crow 
took  up  his  hat.  "I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you  for 
permitting  me  to  question  you.  There  is  just  one 
other  thing  that  I  should  like  to  know;  is  your 
brother,  Charles,  left-handed  by  any  chance?" 

She  looked  at  him  sharply.  Her  lips  moved  as  if 
she  were  on  the  point  of  answering,  but  she  re- 
mained silent. 


MRS.     LANCING  239 

"The  question  is  an  important  one,  Mrs.  Lancing, 
and  your  answer  may  make  all  the  difference  to 
the  young  man  who  has  been  accused  of  committing 
a  crime  of  which,  I  am  certain,  he  is  innocent." 

There  came  a  long  silence.  Mrs.  Lancing  had  stood 
up  and  was  clasping  and  unclasping  her  hands,  and 
her  tear  stained  eyes  were  roving  restlessly  round  the 
room. 

"He  was  left-handed.  Does  that  help  him  or 
make  matters  worse?" 

"According  to  the  opinion  of  the  French  police  it 
makes  no  difference  whatever  to  him,"  said  Martin 
Crow.  To  his  relief  Mrs.  Lancing  accepted  the 
assurance. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

CROW  VISITS   CHURCH   MORTIMER 

HALF  way  down  Richmond  Hill  Martin  Crow 
turned  into  a  side  street  and  entered  the  post 
office  where  he  spent  nearly  half  an  hour  composing 
a  telegram  to  Gerry.  He  asked  her  to  find  out  from 
Coral  Trent,  as  soon  as  possible,  the  exact  date 
when  Miss  Maguire  arrived  in  Australia  in  1927; 
the  port  at  which  she  had  disembarked,  if  she  had 
been  alone;  and  whether  Coral  had  ever  heard  of 
anyone  named  Charles  Carthew  or  Charles  Rayner. 
Having  dispatched  the  wire  Crow  returned  to  his  hotel, 
packed  his  bag  and  caught  the  first  train  to  Waterloo. 
Gerry's  reply  did  not  arrive  until  the  following 
afternoon.  Miss  Maguire,  she  said,  had  landed  at 
Sydney  some  time  during  the  first  week  of  April: 
she  had  not  been  accompanied  by  anyone  but,  after 
greeting  her  relatives  on  the  quay  she  had  waved 
to  a  middle-aged  man  on  the  ship  and  had  called 
out  something  about  meeting  him  in  Melbourne 
during  the  summer.  Coral  did  not  recollect  having 
heard  of  anyone  named  Charles  Rayner  or  Charles 
Carthew.  She  was  under  the  impression  that  her 
aunt  had  gone  out  by  the  Australian  Line,  but  could 
not  remember  the  name  of  the  boat. 

240 


CROW     VISITS     CHURCH     MORTIMER     241 

Martin  Crow  read  Gerry's  reply  a  second  time  and 
then  went  out.  He  walked  along  the  Embankment, 
up  Northumberland  Avenue  and  entered  the  offices  of 
the  Australian  Line  in  Cockspur  Street,  where  he  gave 
his  card  and  asked  to  see  the  manager.  After  waiting 
for  a  few  minutes  he  was  shown  into  an  inner  office. 

"I  am  going  to  make  rather  an  unusual  request," 
he  said  when  he  had  been  asked  to  sit  down,  "but 
when  I  tell  you  that  I  am  acting  in  the  interests  of 
a  young  Englishman  who  is  being  held  by  the 
French  police  on  a  charge  of  having  murdered  his 
aunt,  I  think  that  you  may  be  disposed  to  assist  me." 

"The  Crime  at  the  Villa  Gloria?"  questioned  the 
manager,  quoting  from  the  popular  newspaper 
headings. 

"Correct.  In  my  opinion  there  is  no  doubt 
whatever  as  to  Michael  Maguire's  innocence,  and  I 
have  set  myself  the  task  of  finding  the  murderer 
since  the  French  police  do  not  seem  disposed  to 
make  any  wider  investigations." 

"Then  what  can  I  do  for  you,  Mr.  Crow?" 

"I  happen  to  know  that  Miss  Maguire,  the 
murdered  woman,  went  out  to  Australia  and  landed 
at  Sydney  at  the  beginning  of  April,  1927;  and  my 
informant  thinks  that  she  travelled  on  one  of  your 
boats.  Now,  can  you  let  me  see  the  passenger  list 
of  the  liner  which  would  have  arrived  at  Sydney 
at  that  time?" 

"I'll  see  what  can  be  done,"  the  manager  replied 
as  he  rang  a  bell  on  his  desk.  A  moment  later  a 


242          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

young  man  entered  the  room  and  was  told  to  look 
up  the  list.  Five  minutes  later  he  came  back  with 
two  large  volumes  which  he  put  down  on  the  man- 
ager's desk  and  indicated  the  pages  which  gave  the 
information  Crow  required. 

"The  Victoria  arrived  at  Sydney  on  April  ist, 
1927;  and  the  Queensland  on  the  8th,"  the  manager 
said.  "Perhaps  you  would  like  to  look  down  the 
two  lists,  Mr.  Crow?" 

Martin  Crow  spent  ten  minutes  going  carefully 
down  each  column  of  names. 

"I  am  sorry  to  have  troubled  you,"  he  said  as 
he  looked  up  with  a  disappointed  expression.  "The 
two  names  which  I  hoped  to  find  are  not  there." 

"Perhaps  they  sailed  on  one  of  the  'Oriental' 
boats,"  the  manager  suggested. 

"That  is  a  possibility.  I  came  to  you  first  because 
there  was  an  indication  that  Miss  Maguire  patronised 
your  line.  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  the  trouble  you 
have  taken." 

"It  is  nothing,  Mr.  Crow.    Good  day." 

Martin  Crow  went  out  and  a  few  yards  along  the 
street  he  entered  the  offices  of  the  Oriental  Steam- 
ship Company  and  again  asked  for  the  manager. 
This  time  he  did  not  give  trouble  in  vain.  Miss 
Jennifer  Maguire  had  booked  a  first  class  return 
passage  to  Sydney  and  had  left  England  on  the 
Emperor  of  Australia,  from  which  she  had  landed 
on  the  5th  of  April.  Crow  also  discovered  that  a 
man  named  Charles  Carthew  had  joined  the  boat 


CROW     VISITS     CHURCH     MORTIMER     243 

at  Marseilles,  having  booked  a  single  first  class 
passage  from  that  port  to  Melbourne. 

Crow  thanked  the  manager  warmly  and  hurried 
away  in  the  direction  of  Scotland  Yard.  On  arrival 
there  he  asked  for  his  friend  the  Assistant  Com- 
missioner. 

"You're  looking  tired,  Martin.  You  are  over- 
doing it,"  Sir  Edward  said. 

Crow  lowered  his  massive  form  into  an  arm- 
chair and  smiled. 

"You  are  talking  abject  nonsense,"  he  replied. 
"However,  I  did  not  come  here  to  discuss  my  state 
of  health,  which  was  never  better,  I  came  to  ask 
if  you  were  ready  to  do  me  another  service?" 

"We  are  always  ready  to  do  anything  to  help 
you,  my  dear  Martin,  provided  it  is  reasonable. 
What  is  it  this  time?" 

"I  want  a  few  enquiries  made  in  Sydney  and 
Melbourne." 

The  Assistant  Commissioner  let  forth  a  low  whistle. 

"You  always  did  like  painting  your  pictures  on  a 
large  canvas,  didn't  you?"  he  said  as  he  lighted  a 
cigarette.  "The  last  case  in  which  we  helped  you 
embraced  half  a  dozen  European  and  one  South 
American  country,  if  I  remember  correctly." 

"Ah,  the  Ambassador's  missing  daughter!    Yes, 

by  Jove,  that  was  a  lively  affair,  bubbling  over  with 

exotic   romance.     I'm    afraid   this    case    is    entirely 

commonplace,  but  it's  ten  times  more  important." 

"Well,  who's  been  getting  into  trouble  down  under  ? " 


244          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"No  one,  so  far  as  I  know.  Now,  to  begin  with, 
my  dear  Edward,  I  have  established,  beyond  all 
reasonable  doubt,  that  your  Charles  Rayner  and 
my  Charles  Carthew  are  the  same  person;  and  I 
have  just  discovered  that  an  individual  using  the 
latter  name,  and  Miss  Jennifer  Maguire — the  mur- 
dered woman  in  my  case — both  travelled  to  Australia 
on  the  Emperor  of  Australia  in  1927.  She  landed  at 
Sydney  on  April  5th,  and  he,  apparently,  went  on 
to  Melbourne;  having  booked  a  single  passage  from 
Marseilles.  Miss  Maguire  went  to  stay  with  relatives 
a  few  hundred  miles  inland  from  Sydney  but  I 
have  good  reason  for  supposing  that  she  and  Charles 
Carthew  met  again  sometime  during  the  summer  in 
Melbourne.  Now,  I  want  any  information  that 
you  can  get  concerning  either  of  them." 

"It  should  not  be  difficult  to  get  at  least  a  verifi- 
cation of  what  you  have  just  told  me,"  said  Sir 
Edward  who  had  been  making  notes  on  a  pad, 
"  but  it  is  possible  that  their  movements  after  their 
landing  at  their  respective  ports  were  such  that 
nothing  will  be  known  of  them." 

"I  am  quite  prepared  for  that,"  said  Crow,  "and 
I  really  have  no  particular  reason  for  supposing 
that  anything  will  be  known  about  them;  but  there 
is  always  a  chance  that  something  will  turn  up. 
Of  course  it  is  the  man  who  interests  me  most. 
All  that  I  can  tell  you  about  him  is  that  he  probably 
left  Australia  not  later  than  eighteen  months  ago. 
It  might  be  of  considerable  assistance  if  I  could 


CROW     VISITS     CHURCH     MORTIMER     245 

discover  the  exact  date  when  he  left,  by  what  boat 
he  sailed,  and  where  he  landed." 

"Well,  we'll  see  what  we  can  do,  Martin.  It  may 
take  time,  of  course." 

"Yes,  it  is  possible  that  you  will  hear  nothing 
before  I  return  to  Roquebrune,  in  which  case  I  will 
ask  you  to  wire  me  whatever  information  you  receive." 

"When  are  you  likely  to  go  back?" 

"I  should  like  to  get  away  the  day  after  to-morrow, 
but  I  am  going  to  Church  Mortimer  this  evening 
and  I  don't  know  how  long  I  may  be  kept  there. 
In  the  meantime,  Edward,  I  wonder  if  you  would 
mind  making  out  an  official  report  on  those  finger- 
prints, and  your  records  relating  to  the  two  Rayners. 
If  I  can  produce  something  of  that  sort,  bearing 
your  office  stamp,  I  think  I  may  be  able  to  induce 
the  Commissaire  at  Nice  to  set  young  Maguire  free." 

"You  shall  have  a  report  to-morrow.  I  will  send 
it  round  to  King's  Bench  Walk." 

"You  are  a  good  friend,  Edward,"  said  Crow  as 
he  got  up,  "and  I  am  eternally  grateful  to  you. 
Some  day  I  hope  that  I  may  have  an  opportunity 
of  doing  something  in  re " 

"Get  along  with  you,  Martin  and  don't  blither," 
laughed  the  Assistant  Commissioner  as  he  pushed 
his  friend  towards  the  door.  "I  suppose  there  isn't 
much  chance  of  your  dining  with  us." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  about  that.  If  you  have  no 
engagement  to-morrow  night,  and  I  manage  to  get 
back  in  time,  I  should  like  to  look  you  up." 


246          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Splendid!  Marion  and  I  will  be  doing  nothing, 
so  we  shall  just  expect  you  to  turn  up  if  you  can." 

"You  don't  mind  leaving  it  like  that?" 

"Of  course  not." 

"Then  I  shall  hope  to  be  with  you  to-morrow," 
said  Crow  as  he  took  his  departure. 

That  evening  Martin  Crow  arrived  at  Church 
Mortimer  where  he  engaged  a  room  at  the  Mortimer 
Arms.  As  he  entered  the  dining-room,  rather  late, 
he  saw  Stephen  Chart  who  had  nearly  finished  his 
meal.  He  went  across  and  sat  at  the  same  table. 

"I  was  half  expecting  you  to  look  in  at  my  office 
on  Wednesday,"  the  solicitor  said. 

"Yes,  I  said  I  might,  didn't  I?"  Crow  replied. 
"Unfortunately  I  was  detained  at  Bournemouth  that 
day.  I  rang  up  your  office  just  before  I  left  town  this 
afternoon  and  was  told  that  I  should  probably  find 
you  here." 

"You  have  come  here  specially  to  see  me?"  asked 
Chart,  a  little  surprised. 

"No,  I  was  coming  in  any  case,  but  I  am  very 
glad  of  the  opportunity  to  have  a  talk  with  you. 
It  is  possible  that  you  may  be  able  to  help  me. 
Have  you  ever  heard  of  anyone  named  Rayner  in 
connection  with  Miss  Maguire?" 

"Rayner.  I  have  a  client  of  that  name,  a  Mrs. 
Audrey  Rayner,  but  she  and  Miss  Maguire  were  not 
acquainted,  so  far  as  I  am  aware." 

Martin  Crow  shook  his  head. 


CROW     VISITS     CHURCH     MORTIMER     247 

"The  name  is  not  uncommon,  of  course,"  he 
observed.  "No,  I  do  not  think  that  your  Mrs. 
Rayner  interests  me  at  all.  I  am  concerned  with 
two  men;  Charles  and  Ernest  Rayner." 

"Ernest  Rayner!"  exclaimed  Chart.  "Wasn't 
that  the  fellow  who  got  seven  years  in  connection 
with  some  Bucket  Shop  frauds  a  few  years  back?" 

"That  is  the  man." 

"But  what  has  he  to  do  with  Miss  Maguire?" 

"That  is  what  I  am  trying  to  find  out,"  answered 
Crow.  "You  see,  Ernest  Rayner  and  Ernest  Bough- 
ton,  Miss  Maguire's  butler,  are  the  same  person." 

"You  don't  say  so." 

"And  Charles  Carthew,  to  whom  your  late  client 
was  making  quarterly  payments,  is  his  brother." 

"Well  I'm  damned!" 

"That  is  what  I  feel  like  exclaiming,  Mr.  Chart, 
because  I  am  certain  that  the  relationship  between  that 
man  and  Miss  Maguire  holds  the  key  to  the  mystery 
of  the  murder  at  the  Villa  Gloria;  and  at  present  I 
cannot  see  what  the  relationship  could  have  been." 

"You  think  that  it  was  he  who  murdered  her?" 
asked  Chart. 

Crow  shrugged. 

"If  I  allowed  myself  to  jump  to  conclusions  I 
should  probably  say  that  he  did,  but  in  the  absense 
of  a  clear  motive  I  prefer  to  withhold  judgment 
until  I  am  in  possession  of  more  information.  Would 
it  bore  you  very  much  to  hear  what  I  have  been 
discovering  since  I  got  back  to  England?" 


248          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Good  heavens,  no.   I  should  be  most  interested." 

As  Crow  dined — Stephen  Chart  had  already 
reached  the  coffee  stage — he  told  his  companion 
about  Boughton's  fingerprints,  of  his  visits  to  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Potts  at  Maidenhead;  of  his  talk  with 
Mrs.  Lancing;  the  telegram  from  Gerry,  and  all 
about  the  information  which  he  had  obtained  from 
the  offices  of  the  Oriental  Line. 

"Hm  it  seems  to  point  pretty  clearly  to  either 
Ernest  or  Charles  Rayner,  don't  you  think?"  asked 
the  solicitor. 

"Very  clearly,"  replied  Crow.  "But  don't  you  see 
my  difficulty  at  the  moment?  On  the  face  of  what 
I  have  discovered  I  suspect  Ernest  of  having  planned 
the  murder  and  Charles  of  having  committed  it." 

"  What  are  you  going  on,  your  left-handed  theory  ? " 

"Partly." 

"You  are  still  convinced  on  that  point?" 

"Absolutely." 

"You  didn't  convince  the  Commissaire  at  Nice, 
did  you?" 

"No,  I  didn't,  but  you  must  remember  that  he, 
and  especially  the  Examining  Magistrate,  have  got 
it  firmly  fixed  in  their  heads  that  Michael  Maguire 
is  their  man.  But  I  was  going  to  say,  my  difficulty 
is  that  I  cannot  see  why  either  Ernest  or  Charles 
Rayner  should  have  wished  for  Miss  Maguire's 
death." 

"You  don't  think  that  that  fellow,  Berwick,  came 
in  to  it  somehow?" 


CROW     VISITS     CHURCH     MORTIMER     249 

"I  am  pretty  certain  that  he  did  not  commit  the 
crime.  I  don't  believe  that  he  has  an  ounce  of 
courage.  He  wouldn't  have  the  nerve  to  do  such  a 
thing.  Everything  that  the  sister  told  me  points 
to  Ernest  having  planned  the  thing  and  other  things 
indicate  that  Charles  did  the  foul  deed ;  but  I  always 
find  myself  up  against  the  same  question — motive." 

For  some  moments  there  was  silence  between  the 
two  men.  Stephen  Chart  had  lighted  a  cigarette 
and  was  watching  the  smoke  curling  lazily  upwards. 

"Has  it  occurred  to  you,"  he  said,  at  length, 
"that  Berwick  may  have  been  in  it,  passively?" 

"How?" 

"He  admitted  to  you  that  he  wanted  to  marry 
the  girl,  Coral  Trent?" 

"Yes." 

"And  it  is  probable  that  he  only  wanted  to  marry 
her  for  the  money  which  she  was  going  to  inherit 
from  her  aunt?" 

"Agreed." 

"A  matter  of  some  £50,000." 

"Yes." 

"Now,  isn't  it  most  likely  that  the  butler  knew 
that  the  girl  was  to  inherit  the  fortune  and  made  a 
proposal  to  Berwick  to  the  effect  that  if  Miss  Maguire 
were  disposed  of,  so  that  he  and  Coral  could  marry 
and  get  the  money,  that  a  proportion  of  it  should 
be  made  over  to  him,  Boughton?" 

Crow  considered  this  suggestion  for  some 
moments. 


250          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"It  is  possible,  but  not  likely,  I  think.  Don't 
forget  that  it  is  the  girl,  not  Berwick,  who  inherits." 

"I  know,  I  know,  but  I  don't  think  that  that 
point  is  important.  Coral  Trent,  as  anyone  can  see 
with  half  an  eye,  has  no  knowledge  of  business 
matters.  In  many  ways  she  is  like  a  child  of  fourteen. 
It  would  not  be  very  difficult  for  a  man  like  Ernest 
Rayner  to  get  control  of  that  money  if  he  had  come 
to  some  arrangement  with  Berwick." 

Another  silence. 

"What  you  suggest  may  be  a  possible  explanation," 
Crow  admitted,  "but  it  strikes  me  as  being  rather 
involved.  I  think  that  if  Boughton,  or  Rayner, 
whichever  we  call  him,  had  designs  on  that  money 
he  would  have  worked  to  get  it  direct,  not  through 
Berwick." 

"Well,  that  was  possibly  his  intention.  I  am 
convinced  that  something  of  that  kind  happened, 
or  was  planned  by  the  butler.  In  what  other  way 
could  those  two  men  have  hoped  to  benefit  by  my 
late  client's  death?" 

"Yes,  I  admit  that  there  is  something  to  be  said 
for  your  argument,"  Crow  conceded,  but  in  his 
heart  he  felt  that  Stephen  Chart  was  wrong. 

"What  I  suggest  is  consistent  with  .Berwick's 
behaviour,"  the  solicitor  persisted.  "From  the 
moment  when  you  first  met  him  he  has  tried  to 
deceive  you  on  every  possible  occasion.  By  the  way, 
I  suppose  you  heard  that  he  has  disappeared?" 

"Yes,  my  daughter  wrote  and  told  me." 


CROW     VISITS     CHURCH     MORTIMER     251 

"Everything  that  he  has  said  and  done  has  suggested, 
to  my  mind  at  any  rate,  that  he  is  guilty,  in  some  way." 

"And  you  think  that  he  struck  the  fatal  blow?" 
Crow  asked. 

"When  you  first  sat  down  here  I  should  have 
replied  in  the  affirmative,"  answered  Chart,  "but 
now  I  am  ready  to  admit  that  your  discoveries 
about  Ernest  and  Charles  Rayner  make  a  difference. 
Berwick  may  only  have  been  an  accessory.  What 
are  you  hoping  to  find  out  here?" 

"I  hardly  know.  I  am  going  to  see  Dr.  Mason 
who,  I  imagine,  was  Miss  Maguire's  medical  attend- 
ant, and  sponsored  Ernest  Boughton's  application 
for  his  passport.  I  may  see  if  I  can  learn  anything 
from  the  Chief  Constable." 

"When  are  you  returning  to  Roquebrune?" 

"The  day  after  to-morrow,   I  hope." 

"It  is  possible  that  you  may  hear  something  from 
Australia  before  then?" 

"I  doubt  it,  but  I  think  that  I  may  have  sufficient 
evidence  without  that  to  enable  me  to  secure  Michael 
Maguire's  release.  How  long  are  you  staying  here?" 

"  I  shall  be  leaving  by  an  early  train  in  the  morning. 
I  had  to  come  to  arrange  with  the  housekeeper  at 
Merryfields  for  the  payment  of  the  monthly  wages, 
and  the  general  upkeep  of  the  place.  You  are  going 
to  see  the  doctor  to-night?" 

Crow  looked  at  his  watch. 

"It  is  not  yet  nine,  I  think  I  will  see  if  he  is  in. 
It  might  not  be  easy  to  catch  him  in  the  morning." 


CHAPTER  XXII 
THE  RECTOR'S  SECRET 

DR.  MASON  was  an  elderly  man  who  had 
ministered  to  the  ailments,  real  and  imaginary, 
of  the  "county"  for  nearly  half  a  century.  He  had 
been  unusually  busy  all  day  and  was  enjoying  a 
much-needed  rest  when  the  maid  handed  him 
Crow's  card  and  said  that  she  had  shown  the  visitor 
into  the  next  room. 

"Martin  Crow,  K.C.   What  does  he  want?" 

"I  don't  know,  sir,  he  didn't  say.  He's  a  very 
tall  man  and  doesn't  look  as  if  there  was  much  the 
matter  with  him." 

The  doctor  drew  himself  out  of  his  chair  with  an 
effort  and  laid  aside  his  pipe,  which  was  only  half 
smoked.  He  went  into  the  adjoining  room  and  was 
unable  to  conceal  his  annoyance  at  being  disturbed 
at  an  hour  when  he  hoped  that  his  work  was  done 
for  that  day. 

"Good  evening,  sir,"  he  said,  speaking  brusquely. 
"What  is  it  you  wish  to  see  me  about?" 

"I  am  not  a  patient,  Dr.  Mason,  and  I  must 
apologise  for  troubling  you  so  late,"  replied  Crow 
in  his  most  charming  manner.  "Am  I  correct  in 

252 


THE   RECTOR'S    SECRET  253 

assuming  that  you   were  the   late   Miss   Maguire's 
medical  attendant?" 

"Yes,  indeed  I  was,"  said  the  doctor,  less  curtly. 
"Won't  you  sit  down.  You  must  forgive  me  if  I 
appeared  to  be  a  little  short  as  I  came  in.  I  have 
had  a  particularly  tiring  day  and  Miss  Maguire's 
tragic  death  has  upset  us  all  a  great  deal.  You  were 
acquainted  with  her,  Mr.  Crow?" 

Martin  Crow  explained  briefly  his  connection 
with  the  case. 

"Yes,  we  read  in  the  paper  that  Michael  had 
been  arrested.  It  is  inconceivable  that  he  should  have 
done  such  a  thing." 

"Do  you  know  him  well,  Dr.  Mason?" 

"I  have  known  him  ever  since  his  parents  died, 
when  he  was  quite  a  child.  But  what  object  could 
he  possibly  have  had  in  killing  his  aunt,  who  was 
doing  so  much  for  him?  You  know,  of  course,  that 
Miss  Maguire  was  responsible  for  his  education  and 
was  making  it  possible  for  him  to  become  a  doctor?" 

"Yes,  I  know  that,"  Crow  replied,  and  then  he 
outlined  the  case  against  Michael  from  the  point  of 
view  of  the  French  police. 

Dr.  Mason  remained  silent  for  some  moments. 

"That  sounds  very  serious,"  he  said,  presently. 
"But  even  so  I  cannot  imagine  him  doing  such  a 
thing.  There  must  be  some  mistake,  Mr.  Crow." 

"I  know  there  is,  and  that  is  why  I  am  interesting 
myself  on  his  behalf,  and  why  I  have  come  to  Church 
Mortimer  to  see  you." 


254          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"But  how  can  I  be  of  any  assistance,  except, 
perhaps,  by  telling  you  what  I  know  of  him?" 

"As  a  matter  of  fact  I  do  not  wish  to  know  anything 
about  him,  it  is  information  concerning  someone 
else  that  I  want.  Will  you  permit  me  to  ask  you 
several  questions?  I  will  not  detain  you  a  moment 
longer  than  is  absolutely  necessary." 

"Please  do  not  hurry  yourself,  Mr.  Crow.    This 
is  a  very  grave  matter,  and  I  shall  be  only  too  pleased 
if  I  can  do  anything,  or  say  anything,  that  will  help 
Michael.    When  I  was  told  that  you  wanted  to  see 
me  I  imagined  that  it  was  someone  who  wished  me 
to  prescribe  for  a  stomach  ache,  or  a  sick  headache. 
People  worry  one  on  the  least  provocation  and  it 
generally  ends  in  my  giving  them  a  dose  of  salts 
which   they   could   easily   have   obtained   from   the 
chemist.   Now,  what  is  it  that  you  want  to  know?" 
"How  long  have  you  known  Miss  Maguire?" 
"Ever  since  I  came  here,  forty-five  years  ago." 
"How  would  you  describe  her,  in  character?" 
"That  is  something  of  a  poser,  Mr.  Crow,"  replied 
the  doctor  after  a  moment's  pause.    "Miss  Maguire 
was,  in  many  ways,  a  remarkable  woman;  an  auto- 
crat; high-principled,  generous  where  needy  people 
and  institutions  were  concerned;  very  business-like; 
she   never   owed   a   penny   in   her  life;   she   was   a 
thoroughly  good  woman  but,  I  must  admit,  she  had 
her  peculiarities." 
"In  what  way?" 
"She  had  clearly  defined  ideas  about  things,  and 


THE    RECTOR'S    SECRET  255 

expected  everyone  about  her  to  conform  to  those 
ideas." 

"Can  you  account  for  her  severe  treatment  of 
her  nephew  regarding  her  wish  that  he  should  marry 
his  cousin?" 

"I  cannot,  Mr.  Crow,  and  yet  I  am  not  altogether 
surprised  that  she  should  have  adopted  that  attitude. 
I  have  no  doubt  that  she  considered  it  was  for  his 
and  the  girl's  good.  Very  likely  she  allowed  the 
idea  to  get  on  her  brain." 

"In  that  particular  respect  she  hardly  seemed  to 
be  human." 

"Granted.  I  cannot  defend  it,  but  I  happen  to 
know  that  she  was  actuated  by  a  problem  which  was 
causing  her  considerable  uneasiness." 

"You  refer  to  the  attentions  which  were  being 
paid  to  her  niece  by  a  certain  young  man?"  Crow 
asked. 

"Ah,  you  know  all  about  that?" 

"I  got  it  from  Alan  Berwick  himself." 

"Then  I  suppose  there  is  no  need  for  me  to 
remain  silent  upon  that  point.  Yes,  Miss  Maguire 
strongly  disapproved  of  him  and  forbade  him  to 
enter  her  house,  but  he  was,  I  understand,  persistent, 
and  made  every  effort  to  meet  the  young  lady  secretly. 
Miss  Maguire  had  reasons,  probably  very  good 
reasons,  for  supposing  that  the  attraction  was,  not 
the  young  lady  herself,  but  the  money  which  she 
would  some  day  inherit;  and  she  naturally  wished 
to  put  a  stop  to  that  state  of  affairs." 


256          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"I  am  going  to  be  frank,  Dr.  Mason.  The  evidence 
in  this  case  does  not  preclude  Alan  Berwick  from 
being  suspected  of  either  having  committed  the 
crime,  or  of  having  been  in  some  way  concerned  with 
it.  Would  you  be  surprised  if  you  learnt  that  he  had 
murdered  Miss  Maguire?" 

"Yes,  I  should,"  replied  the  doctor. 

"May  I  ask  why?" 

"In  many  ways  Alan  Berwick  is  still  a  child,  and 
I  do  not  think  that  he  has  the  brain  to  plan  anything 
of  that  kind;  or  the  courage,  unless,  of  course,  he 
were  roused  to  a  sudden  heat  of  uncontrolled  rage." 

"You  know  him  well?" 

"No,  not  very  well,  but  I  have  known  him  all  his 
life.  As  a  matter  of  fact  I  brought  him  into  the  world." 

"Would  you  describe  him  as  a  degenerate?" 

Dr.  Mason  looked  at  Crow  with  surprise. 

"That  is  rather  a  strong  term  to  use,  isn't  it?" 

"Too  strong?" 

"Yes,  I  think  it  is,  although  I  can  guess  what  is 
in  your  mind.  He  is  morally  weak,  that  cannot  be 
denied.  Do  you,  personally,  suspect  him  of  having 
committed  this  crime?" 

"No,  I  am  inclined  to  agree  with  you  that  he 
would  not  have  sufficient  courage  to  do  a  thing  like 
that  in  cold  blood;  and  there  is  no  question  of  his 
having  been  roused  to  a  sudden  passion  of  anger. 
I  questioned  you  about  him  because  I  was  seeking 
for  support  to  my  own  views.  He  has  been  behaving 
in  a  very  extraordinary  manner  since  Miss  Maguire's 


THE    RECTOR'S    SECRET  257 

death;  in  fact  the  last  that  I  heard  of  him  was  that 
he  had  suddenly  disappeared." 

"Took  fright,  probably,"  said  the  doctor.  "That 
is  just  what  I  should  have  expected  him  to  do  if  he 
imagined  that  he  was  under  suspicion.  Alan  never 
did  have  any  backbone,  even  as  a  schoolboy.  He 
always  took  what  he  considered  to  be  the  easiest 
path,  and  never  appeared  to  have  any  ambition. 
That,  no  doubt,  is  why  he  failed  to  take  his  degree 
at  Oxford  and  made  no  attempt  to  practise  after  he 
had  been  called  to  the  Bar.  His  father  left  him  an 
income  of  three  or  four  hundred  a  year  and  he  saw  no 
reason  why  he  should  bother  to  work  for  his  living." 

"He  had  extravagant  tastes,  I  imagine?"  ques- 
tioned Crow. 

"Yes.  His  mother  has  been  obliged  to  pay  his 
debts,  pretty  heavy  debts,  more  than  once  since  he 
came  of  age.  I  am  telling  you  all  this,  Mr.  Crow, 
because  it  is  known  to  everyone.  You  have  only  to 
ask  any  of  the  people  who  live  here  and  they  would 
tell  you  the  same." 

"I  understand.  Now,  Dr.  Mason,  there  is  one 
other  point  about  which  I  wish  to  consult  you.  I 
am  told  that  you  vouched  for  the  identity  of  Miss 
Maguire's  butler  when  he  applied  for  a  passport 
about  two  years  ago?" 

"Yes,  for  Boughton." 

"You  knew  the  man?" 

"I  had  attended  him  once  or  twice,  professionally, 
and  I  always  saw  him  whenever  I  went  to  the  house." 


258          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"I  suppose  you  signed  his  application  form  at 
Miss  Maguire's  request?" 

"Yes,  but  may  I  ask  you  why  you  are  interested 
in  his  passport?" 

"Because  his  name  is  not  Boughton  but  Rayner." 

"Rayner!  But  .  .  .  but  this  is  rather  a  serious 
matter,  isn't  it?" 

"You  acted  in  good  faith  and  at  the  request  of 
his  employer." 

"But  even  so  I " 

"You  could  hardly  be  blamed,  Dr.  Mason. 
Boughton,  or  rather  Rayner,  is  known  to  the  police. 
He  was  serving  a  term  of  imprisonment  not  long 
before  he  entered  Miss  Maguire's  service." 

"Good  Heavens!  I  always  took  him  for  a  man- 
servant of  the  good,  old-fashioned  type.  Are  you 
quite  sure  of  your  facts,  Mr.  Crow  ? " 

"I  am  going  entirely  upon  information  supplied 
to  me  by  the  Assistant  Commissioner  of  Police  at 
Scotland  Yard." 

"Does  Boughton  come  into  this  case?" 

"That  is  what  I  am  trying  to  find  out;  the  reason, 
in  fact,  for  my  visit  to  Church  Mortimer.  I  am 
'pretty  certain  that  he  does,  but  I  have  no  proof." 

"Dear  me!  How  very  careful  one  ought  to  be 
over  matters  of  that  sort.  I  trust  that  there  will  not 
be  any  trouble:  over  the  passport,  I  mean." 

"I  do  not  think  that  is  likely,  Doctor,"  said 
Crow  as  he  stood  up.  "I  am  very  much  obliged  to 
you." 


THE    RECTOR'S    SECRET  259 

"I  am  glad  if  I  have  been  of  any  assistance  to  you. 
Do  you  know  what  will  be  happening  to  Merry- 
fields?" 

"Miss  Maguire's  lawyer  is  here  now,  making 
arrangements  for  the  property  to  be  kept  in  order.  I 
understand  that  Michael  Maguire  inherits  the  place." 

"You  do  not  doubt  his  ability  to  prove  his  inno- 
cence, I  hope." 

"I  think  that  is  only  a  matter  of  time;  in  fact  I 
am  hoping  that  I  may  obtain  sufficient  evidence  to 
secure  his  release  as  soon  as  I  return  to  the  South 
of  France." 

"I  am  glad,  Mr.  Crow.  Michael  Maguire  was 
always  a  favourite  of  mine;  in  fact  there  was  an 
understanding  between  us  that  he  should  come  to 
me  as  soon  as  he  qualified,  as  an  assistant,  with  a 
view  to  a  partnership  after  a  year  or  two.  Perhaps 
you  would  be  good  enough  to  drop  me  a  line  to 
say  how  matters  are  progressing,  as  far  as  he  is 
concerned?" 

"I  will  most  certainly  let  you  know  directly  I 
have  any  news,"  Crow  replied. 

Major  Armytage,  the  Chief  Constable,  was  a 
bluff,  red-faced  little  man  who  had  an  exaggerated 
notion  of  his  own  importance,  and  never  having 
heard  of  Martin  Crow,  he  seemed  to  regard  his 
visitor  as  an  interloper. 

"I  am  sorry,  sir,"  he  said  in  a  curt  tone,  "but  my 
position  forbids  me  to  give  information  unofficially.  If 


260          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

Scotland  Yard  takes  the  matter  up  and  communicates 
with  me  I  shall,  of  course,  answer  their  questions." 

Crow  was  disappointed  but  not  surprised.  During 
the  ten  years  which  he  had  devoted  to  the  investiga- 
tion of  crime  he  had  become  so  well  known  to  Chief 
Constables  and  police  officers  in  all  parts  of  the 
country  that  he  usually  had  little  difficulty  in  obtain- 
ing their  help;  but  there  were  occasions,  like  the 
present  one,  when  he  came  up  against  someone  who 
had  never  heard  of  his  existence  and  refused  all 
assistance. 

As  Crow  walked  away  from  Major  Armytage's 
office  it  seemed  to  him  that  there  was  now  no  object 
in  spending  any  more  time  at  Church  Mortimer 
and  he  decided  that  he  would  send  a  wire  to  Sir 
Edward  to  say  that  he  would  dine  with  him  and  Lady 
Berring  that  evening.  As  he  was  dispatching  the 
telegram  an  idea  occurred  to  him  and  he  put  through 
a  telephone  call  to  Merryfields.  He  asked  for  the 
housekeeper,  who  informed  him  that  Miss  Maguire 
had  always  been  in  the  habit  of  attending  church  at 
the  village  of  Arleford,  a  couple  of  miles  from  Church 
Mortimer,  and  that  the  rector's  name  was  the 
Reverend  William  Mold.  Crow  at  once  hired  a  car 
and  drove  to  the  Rectory,  where  he  handed  his 
card  to  the  maid  and  asked  if  she  would  take  it  to 
her  master.  After  waiting  for  two  or  three  minutes 
he  was  shown  into  the  study,  a  large,  pleasant  room 
which  looked  on  to  a  broad  stretch  of  well-kept 
lawn.  The  Reverend  William  Mold  was  standing 


THE   RECTOR'S   SECRET  261 

behind  his  writing-desk.  He  was  a  shy,  middle- 
aged  man  who  extended  a  warm,  moist  hand  and 
invited  the  visitor  to  take  a  chair. 

"Of  course  I  know  your  name  very  well,  Mr. 
Crow,"  he  said  as  he  sat  down  and  straightened  one 
or  two  things  on  the  desk.  "And  what  may  I  .  .  . 
er  .  .  .  have  the  pleasure  of  .  .  .  er  .  .  . 
doing  for  you?" 

"I  am  hoping  that  you  may  be  good  enough  to 
tell  me  something  about  the  late  Miss  Maguire  who, 
I  understand,  was  one  of  your  parishioners.  You 
have  heard,  of  course?" 

The  Rector  assumed  a  grave  expression. 

"I  have  been  laid  up  with  influenza  for  the  past 
fortnight,"  he  said,  "and  my  wife  only  told  me  the 
sad  news  this  morning.  It  came  as  a  very  great 
shock  to  me." 

"I  can  well  believe  that,  Mr.  Mold." 

"Miss  Maguire  was  a  most  generous  supporter 
of  my  church  and  she  will  be  greatly  missed?  You 
knew  her?" 

"No.  I  happened  to  be  staying  near  her  villa 
in  the  South  of  France  and  became  acquainted  with 
the  young  lady  to  whom  her  nephew  was  engaged  to 
be  married." 

"Ah,  Michael!"  exclaimed  the  Reverend  William. 
"Is  it  really  true,  Mr.  Crow,  that  he  had  been 
arrested  and  charged  with  murder?" 

"Quite  true,  and  it  is  because  of  his  unfortunate 
position  that  I  have  come  to  England  to  make 


262          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

certain  enquiries  on  his  behalf.  You  may  know  that 
since  I  gave  up  my  practice  I  have  devoted  myself 
to  criminal  investigation." 

"I  was  not  aware  of  that  fact,  Mr.  Crow,  but  I 
can  well  imagine  that  your  vast  knowledge  would 
be  of  the  greatest  assistance  to  you  in  dealing  with 
cases  of  this  kind.  You  do  not  think  that  he  killed 
his  aunt?" 

"No,  I  am  certain  that  he  did  not,  and  I  am  glad 
to  say  that  I  think  I  am  well  on  the  road  to  tracing 
the  person  who  did  commit  the  crime.  At  the 
moment,  however,  my  chain  of  information  is 
incomplete,  and  I  am  hoping  that  you  may  be  instru- 
mental in  rilling  in  the  gaps  for  me." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence  during  which  the 
rector  moved  some  more  of  the  things  on  his  desk. 

"How  can  I  do  that?"  he  asked  at  length,  without 
looking  up. 

"You  have  known  Miss  Maguire  for  some  time?" 
Crow  asked. 

"For  nearly  twenty  years." 

"Can  you  tell  me  how  many  near  relatives  she 
had?" 

The  Reverend  William  Mold  gave  Crow  a  quick 
glance,  and  then  turned  his  eyes  towards  the  open 
window. 

"When  I  knew  Miss  Maguire  first,"  he  said, 
reverting  to  his  visitor,  "her  father  was  alive  and  her 
sister,  Annie,  was  at  home.  They  are  both  dead 
and,  as  far  as  I  know,  her  nephew  Michael  Maguire, 


THE    RECTOR'S    SECRET  263 

and  her  niece,  Miss  Trent,  are  now  her  only  living 
relatives." 

"She  had  no  brothers?" 

"No." 

"And  Mrs.  Trent  was  her  only  sister?" 

"Yes." 

"You  have  never  heard  of  any  uncles  or  aunts, 
or  cousins?" 

"No,  in  fact  it  was  only  last  summer  that  Miss 
Maguire  told  me  that  Michael  and  Miss  Trent 
were  her  only  relations." 

"Since  you  have  known  her,  Mr.  Mold,  have  you 
ever  met  anyone,  or  heard  of  anyone,  named  Rayner?" 

"No  one  in  any  way  connected  with  Miss 
Maguire." 

"Or  Carthew?" 

Crow  noticed  that  the  Rector  started,  almost 
imperceptibly,  and  then  lowered  his  eyes  to  the  manu- 
script of  a  sermon  which  lay  on  the  desk  before  him. 

"  I  have  never  met  anyone  of  that  name,"  he  replied 
in  a  voice  which  was  not  controlled. 

"But  you  have  heard  the  name  mentioned  by  Miss 
Maguire?"  Crow  asked,  eagerly.  He  was  watching 
the  rector  expectantly.  Was  he  about  to  learn  some- 
thing which  would  give  him  the  key  to  his  problem  ? 

"Yes,  I  am  compelled  to  admit  that  I  have  heard 
Miss  Maguire  mention  it,"  the  Reverend  William 
Mold  said  after  a  long  pause. 

"In  what  connection?" 

The  Rector  passed  his  hand  across  his  eyes  and 


264          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

leant  back  in  his  chair.  A  full  minute  passed  before 
he  spoke. 

"I  am  sorry,  Mr.  Crow,  but  I  am  not  at  liberty 
to  answer  that  question.  About  seven  years  ago  I 
was  entrusted  with  a  secret  and  at  the  same  time 
I  was  asked  to  do  something  in  the  event  of  Miss 
Maguire's  death.  I  was  asked  to  give  certain  informa- 
tion to  her  lawyer,  a  Mr.  Stephen  Chart.  Barely  half 
an  hour  ago  I  gave  a  letter,  containing  that  inform- 
ation to  the  maid  and  told  her  to  post  it  at  once." 

"It  concerns  someone  named  Carthew?"  asked 
Crow. 

"Forgive  me,  but  I  would  sooner  not  answer  any 
further  questions.  May  I  suggest  that  you  communi- 
cate with  Mr.  Stephen  Chart  who  will,  perhaps,  if 
he  thinks  fit,  pass  on  to  you  the  information  con- 
tained in  my  letter  to  him.  You  have  his  address?" 

"Yes,  I  have  it.  As  a  matter  of  fact  Mr.  Chart  was 
staying  at  Church  Mortimer  last  night  and  is  now 
on  his  way  back  to  London." 

"Indeed.  It  is  possible  that  my  communication 
to  him  may  be  of  some  assistance  to  you.  ...  I 
take  it  that  there  is  no  doubt  about  Michael's  ability 
to  clear  himself?" 

"I  do  not  think  there  is  any  doubt,  Mr.  Mold." 

"I  am  thankful  to  hear  you  say  that.  He  is  a  good 
fellow,  I  am  sure.  Forgive  me  if  I  do  not  come  to 
the  door  with  you,"  the  Rector  went  on  as  he  rang 
the  bell.  "I  am  still  trying  to  take  care  of  myself  as 
I  wish  to  be  able  to  take  my  services  next  Sunday." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  KEY   TO   THE   PROBLEM 

WHEN  Martin  Crow  returned  to  his  home  from 
Church  Mortimer  he  found  a  letter  from  Gerry 
waiting  for  him. 

"  We  have  just  had  another  visit  from  M.  Peille,"  she 
wrote.  "I  really  feel  quite  sorry  for  the  little  man; 
he  seems  to  have  got  into  such  a  hopeless  muddle  over 
the  case.  He  is  obviously  deeply  impressed  by  the  work 
which  you  have  already  done,  and,  in  spite  of  what  he, 
himself,  may  be  inclined  to  think,  can't  help  hoping  that 
you  may  be  on  the  right  track.  Against  this  he  has  to 
contend  with  the  Juge  d' Instruction,  who  is  annoyed  with 
him  for  letting  you  butt  in.  If  it  weren't  for  the  Juge 
and  the  Prefet  I  believe  that  M.  Peille  would  be  willing 
to  release  Michael  on  parole.  As  it  is,  I  fear  that  you  will 
have  to  come  along  with  some  pretty  conclusive  evidence 
against  someone  else,  before  he  will  consent  to  do 
that. 

"M.  Peille  has  made  an  exhaustive  search  for  the 
revolver  which  fired  that  shot  at  you.  He  says  that 
it  is  not  at  the  villa  and  he  is  sure  that  Boughton  is  not 
carrying  it  about  with  him.  In  view  of  Alan  Berwick's 
sudden  and  mysterious  disappearance,  he  is  convinced 
that  it  was  he  who  wanted  to  get  rid  of  you. 

"M.  Peille  has  caused  enquiries  to  be  made  all  along 
the  coast  for  Charles  Carthew,  and  it  has  been  found 
that  a  man  answering  his  description  took  a  ticket  at 

265 


266          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

Monte  Carlo,  for  Marseilles,  on  the  night  of  the  murder. 
The  Marseilles  police  are  now  trying  to  find  him  there, 
and  enquiries  are  also  being  made  at  Ajaccio. 

"We  have  been  over  to  Nice  every  other  day  and 
Alison  has  seen  Michael  for  a  few  minutes  each  time. 
She  has  just  heard  from  her  employer  who  has  told  her 
not  to  think  about  returning  until  the  affair  is  settled, 
and  he  is  paying  her  in  full  during  her  absence. 

"We  are  wondering  when  you  will  be  back  and  are 
most  anxious  to  hear  if  you  have  met  with  any  real 
success  in  England.  I  hope  the  information  which  I 
obtained  from  Coral  Trent  and  telegraphed  was  of  some 
value. 

"Love  from 

"  GERRY." 

Martin  Crow  put  the  letter  in  his  pocket  and  went 
into  his  room  to  dress  for  his  dinner  with  the 
Berrings.  When  he  arrived  at  the  house  in  Palace 
Gate  he  was  relieved  to  find  that  he  was  the  only 
guest,  for  he  was  tired  after  his  day's  exertions  and 
did  not  feel  in  the  mood  for  being  formal.  Having 
him  to  themselves  he  knew  that  Sir  Edward  would 
want  to  know  all  about  his  visit  to  Church  Mortimer, 
and  replying  to  his  friend  would  not  worry  him.  On 
the  contrary,  Crow  welcomed  the  opportunity  to 
discuss  the  case.  He  always  found  that  it  helped  him 
when  he  was  able  to  express  his  ideas  aloud ;  provided 
the  ideas  were  sufficiently  formulated. 

"I  felt  that  I  was  on  the  point  of  solving  the  whole 
problem  when  that  parson  admitted  that  he  had 
heard  the  name  Carthew  mentioned  in  connection 
with  Miss  Maguire,"  Crow  said  after  they  had  left 


THE     KEY     TO     THE     PROBLEM  267 

the    dining-room    and   were    sitting   in   the    lounge 
drinking  their  coffee. 

"And  he  would  tell  you  no  more?"  asked  Sir 
Edward. 

"No,  he  advised  me  to  communicate  with  the 
lawyer  to  whom  he  had  passed  on  this  secret  informa- 
tion." 

"Have  you  any  idea  at  all  as  to  its  nature?" 

"None.  My  theory  has  always  been  that  the  person 
who  killed  Miss  Maguire  was  someone  who  imagined 
that,  in  the  absence  of  any  will,  he,  or  she,  would 
inherit  the  fortune  as  her  next-of-kin,"  Crow 
answered. 

"What  made  you  come  to  that  conclusion?" 

"It  was  the  only  way  in  which  I  could  account 
for  the  destruction  of  the  wills.  The  only  other 
way  of  looking  at  it  was  to  assume  that  the  nephew 
was  guilty;  had  been  consumed  by  avarice  and  had 
hoped  to  inherit  the  whole  fortune  instead  of  half. 
That,  I  considered,  was  out  of  the  question." 

"Tell  me,  Martin,  how  you  set  to  work  on  a  case 
of  that  sort,"  Sir  Edward  asked,  as  he  cut  a  cigar. 
"You  see,  you  and  I  look  at  cases  from  totally 
different  angles,  at  least  I  suppose  we  do.  Roughly 
speaking  we  collect  all  the  available  evidence  and  if 
it  points  to  a  particular  individual  we  arrest  him. 
Now,  in  this  case  of  yours  that,  presumably,  is 
precisely  what  the  French  police  did — one  could 
hardly  expect  them  to  do  otherwise — but  your 
position  is  entirely  different.  You,  I  imagine,  ignored 


268          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

all  the  evidence  which  appeared  to  incriminate  the 
nephew  and  began  searching  for  something  which 
might  enable  you  to  drop  on  to  someone  else.  Now 
in  such  cases — and  most  of  yours  must  be  the  same — 
what  makes  you  assume  that  the  suspected  person 
is  innocent?  That,  I  suppose  is  what  you  have  to 
start  by  doing?" 

"You  have  more  or  less  answered  the  question 
yourself,"  Crow  replied.  "Necessity  made  me 
assume  that  Michael  Maguire  was  innocent  and  that 
the  evidence  upon  which  the  police  had  based  their 
charge  was  capable  of  being  interpreted  differently. 
In  all  such  cases  where  I  am  called  upon  to  help 
the  accused,  I  have  to  have  a  starting  point,  and  the 
only  possible  one  is  the  assumption  of  innocence." 

"Did  you  work  on  the  same  principle  when  you 
were  pleading  for  accused  people?"  asked  Lady 
Berring. 

"Invariably." 

"But  weren't  there  occasions  when  you  felt  pretty 
certain  that  the  accused  was  guilty?" 

"Admittedly  there  were." 

"That  is  a  point  which  has  always  interested  me," 
said  his  hostess.  "It  seems  so  strange  to  me  that  a 
lawyer  can  stand  up  and  plead  for  a  man  whom  he 
thinks  is  guilty." 

"It  is  not  really  strange,  Marion,  if  you  consider 
the  question  broadly,"  Crow  replied.  "You  must 
remember  this,  no  one  can  be  certain  of  a  man's  guilt 
unless  he  has  actually  seen  the  man  committing  the 


THE     KEY     TO     THE     PROBLEM  269 

crime;  and  even  then  there  may  be  extenuating 
circumstances  which  have  to  be  taken  into  considera- 
tion. After  all,  you  have  a  very  similar,  but  reversed, 
position  with  a  prosecuting  counsel  who  is  demanding 
a  man's  life,  when  he  knows  that  his  evidence  is  not 
infallible." 

"Yes,  I  always  feel  that  that  is  an  interesting  point. 
Ah!  The  telephone.  Excuse  me,"  Sir  Edward  said 
as  he  got  up  and  went  across  to  the  instrument 
which  stood  on  a  table  at  the  far  end  of  the  room. 
"Hullo  .  .  .  yes,  Sir  Edward  Berring  speaking. 
.  .  .  Ah!  is  that  you,  Inspector?  Splendid.  .  .  . 
Anything  interesting?  .  .  .  Good.  Send  a  messen- 
ger round  with  it  at  once,  will  you?  Good  night."  Sir 
Edward  put  down  the  receiver  and  went  back  to  his 
chair.  "News  for  you  from  Australia,  Martin,"  he  said. 

"Already!    What  is  it?" 

"I  fancy  that  you  are  going  to  receive  a  pleasant 
surprise,"  the  Assistant  Commissioner  said  as  he 
sat  down.  "Your  fellow,  Charles  Carthew,  was 
arrested  in  Melbourne  in  September,  1927,  on  a 
charge  of  robbery  with  violence  and  was  sentenced 
to  five  years'  penal.  His  arrest  took  place  a  few 
hours  after  he  had  married  Miss  Jennifer  Maguire." 

"Good  Heavens!"  exclaimed  Crow.  "What  a 
consummate  fool  I've  been!" 

"But  why  this  self-condemnation,  my  dear 
Martin?"  asked  Lady  Berring. 

"Because  it  is  so  obvious  now  that  one  knows  it; 
but  it  ought  to  have  been  obvious  all  along.  There 


270          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

is  the  key  to  the  whole  thing.  As  her  husband  he 
would  inherit  all  her  money,  provided  no  will  could 
be  found." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  could  have  been  expected 
to  guess  that  a  severe,  middle-aged  spinster,  pre- 
sumably eminently  repectable,  had  secretly  married 
a  scoundrel  like  that,"  said  Sir  Edward.  "It  was 
about  the  least  likely  thing  to  have  happened." 

"Edward!"  said  Crow  severely,  " I  am  surprised 
to  hear  a  man  of  your  experience  and  position 
talking  like  that.  Don't  you  know  that  it  is  these 
unexpected  things  which  do  happen,  and  if  I  hadn't 
been  a  blind  fool  I  should  have  tumbled  to  it.  Are 
they  sending  the  cable  round?" 

"Yes,  it  should  be  here  at  any  minute.  But  to 
go  back  to  your  censure  of  myself,  Martin,"  Sir 
Edward  said  with  a  smile,  "I  accept  it  from  you, 
but  I  don't  agree  with  you.  No  mind  can  legislate 
for  every  possibility." 

Crow  ran  his  fingers  through  his  short,  stubbly 
hair. 

"Perhaps  you  are  right,"  he  said  with  a  sigh,  "but 
I  can't  help  feeling  that  I  ought  to  have  thought  of 
it,  for  the  simple  reason  that  it  supplies  the  only 
possible  explanation  for  the  destruction  of  the  will. 
Moreover ' ' 

At  that  moment  a  man-servant  entered  the  room 
with  an  envelope  on  a  salver.  Sir  Edward  tore  it 
open  and  glanced  at  the  enclosure  which  he  at  once 
handed  to  Crow. 


THE     KEY     TO     THE     PROBLEM  271 

"Read  it  to  us,  Martin,"  he  said.  "It  is,  of  course, 
a  decoded  transcription." 

Martin  Crow  moved  across  to  another  chair  where 
there  was  a  better  light.  The  sheet  which  he  held  in 
his  hand  bore  the  official  heading  of  Scotland  Yard 
and  typed  across  the  top  was  the  inscription:  "Copy 
of  cable  received  from  the  Deputy  Commissioner 
of  Police,  Melbourne,  Australia:  dated  April  4th, 

193- 

" '  In  reply  to  enquiries  re  Miss  Jennifer  Maguire  who 
landed  at  Sydney  from  Emperor  of  Australia,  5th  of 
April,  1927,  and  Charles  Carthew  who  landed  from  the 
same  boat  at  Melbourne,  8th  of  April,  1927.  The  latter 
came  under  our  notice  during  August  of  that  year  when 
a  warrant  was  issued  for  his  arrest  on  a  charge  of  robbery 
with  violence.  His  arrest  was  affected  on  September 
loth  following,  as  he  was  about  to  embark  for  England. 
A  few  hours  previously  Carthew  had  married  Miss 
Jennifer  Maguire.  He  was  tried  and  sentenced  to  five 
years'  penal  servitude  at  Melbourne,  and  was  released 
in  October,  1931.  His  wife  attended  the  trial  and  walked 
out  of  court  directly  the  verdict  was  given.  She  sailed 
a  week  later  for  England.' " 

When  he  had  finished  reading  the  cable  Martin 
Crow  sat  with  his  brows  knit  and  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  pattern  of  the  carpet. 

"What  is  troubling  you  now?"  Sir  Edward 
asked. 

Crow  looked  up  with  a  start. 

"What  was  that?  I'm  sorry.  I  had  lost  myself 
for  a  moment.  I  was  wondering  why  he  was  embark- 
ing for  England  when  he  was  arrested," 


272          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"  You  mean  that  he  should  have  known  that  England 
was  not  going  to  welcome  him  with  open  arms?" 

"Yes." 

"I  should  think  it  is  very  likely  that  he  did  not 
intend  coming  here.  Perhaps  they  had  arranged  to 
step  off  at  Marseilles,  and  spend  the  winter  on  the 
Riviera.  Or,  who  knows  but  what  he  may  have 
planned  murdering  her  as  far  back  as  that,  on  the 
boat,  or  in  France,  when  they  landed." 

"Yes,  that  is  possible,"  Crow  agreed.  "May  I 
keep  this  cable?" 

"Of  course.  You  may  have  the  original  if  it  is 
likely  to  be  of  any  use  to  you." 

"Yes,  I  think  I'd  better  have  them  both.  I  will 
call  for  it  in  the  morning." 

"When  are  you  leaving?" 

"Some  time  to-morrow.  I  must  see  Stephen 
Chart,  Miss  Maguire's  lawyer,  before  I  go.  I  think 
I  may  fly  to  Paris  and  catch  the  Blue  Train  there. 
And  now,  Marion,  my  dear,  I  think  I  shall  say  good 
night.  I  see  that  I  am  going  to  have  another  very 
busy  day  to-morrow." 

"You  need  not  trouble  to  come  round  for  that 
cable,  Martin,  I'll  send  it  to  you  so  that  you  get  it 
by  half  past  ten.  Will  that  be  soon  enough?"  asked 
Sir  Edward. 

"Good  gracious  yes.  I  shan't  get  off  until  after 
lunch." 

"Now  is  there  anything  else  that  the  Yard  can  do 
for  you?" 


THE     KEY     TO     THE     PROBLEM  273 

"The  Yard  has  already  excelled  itself  on  my 
behalf,"  Crow  replied  as  he  shook  hands  with  his 
hostess,  "and  I  hope  I  shall  not  want  to  trouble  it 
again,  just  yet.  I  don't  know  what  you  said  to  those 
Australian  people  to  get  their  reply  so  quickly, 
Edward." 

"Ah,  we  have  our  methods,  Martin,  for  putting 
them  on  their  mettle,"  the  Assistant  Commissioner 
replied. 

Shortly  after  ten  o'clock  the  following  morning 
Martin  Crow  was  shown  into  Mr.  Stephen  Chart's 
room  at  the  offices  of  Chart,  Blagrove  &  Chart,  in 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields. 

"You  are  the  very  man  I  want  to  see,"  the  lawyer 
exclaimed.  "I  have  just  been  reading  a  most  extra- 
ordinary letter  from " 

"The  Reverend  William  Mold,"  Crow  broke  in, 
"and  he  informs  you  that  the  lady  who  recently 
met  her  death  at  the  Villa  Gloria,  Roquebrune- 
Cap-Martin,  was  Mrs.  Charles  Carthew." 

"How  on  earth  did  you  know  that?"  demanded 
the  amazed  lawyer.  "This  parson  says  that  he  and 
his  wife  were  the  only  people  who  knew  anything 
about  it." 

"Mr.  Mold  seems  to  have  forgotten  the  existence 
of  the  registrar  of  marriages  in  Melbourne." 

"You  ferreted  that  out  from  Australia?"  Chart 
asked. 

Crow  took  the  cable  from  his  pocket  and  handed 


274          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

it  across  the  desk.  Chart  read  it  through  and  then 
looked  up. 

"But  how  did  you  know  that  this  Rector  had 
written  to  me  about  it?"  Crow  described  his  visit 
to  the  Reverend  William  Mold.  "Ah,  I  understand," 
Chart  said.  "Well,  I  think  you  had  better  see  his 
letter." 

Crow  took  it  and  read  it. 

"DEAR  SIR, 

"I  must  explain  that  I  first  became  acquainted 
with  Miss  Jennifer  Maquire  nearly  twenty  years  ago, 
when  I  was  appointed  to  this  benefice.  Since  the  death  of 
her  father  she  has  been  one  of  my  staunchest  supporters. 
About  seven  years  ago  Miss  Maguire  went  to  Australia 
to  visit  her  married  sister  and  when  she  returned,  eight 
or  nine  months  later,  my  wife  and  I  noticed  a  marked 
change  in  her.  It  was  obvious  to  us  both  that  something 
had  happened  to  cause  her  great  distress,  and  we  both 
made  efforts  to  induce  her  to  unburden  herself  to  us. 
We  were  entirely  unsuccessful  and  gave  up  the  attempt. 

"Last  summer,  however,  Miss  Maguire  came  to  see 
us  and  after  making  us  both  take  a  solemn  oath  of  the 
strictest  secrecy,  told  us  that  she  wished  us  to  assist 
her.  Without  displaying  the  slightest  sign  of  any  emotion 
she  briefly  told  us  that  while  she  was  in  Australia  she 
had  married  a  man  named  Charles  Carthew  whom  she 
had  met  on  the  boat  going  out.  A  few  hours  after  the 
marriage  ceremony  this  man  was  arrested  as  they  were 
about  to  embark  for  England.  He  was  tried  on  a  very 
serious  charge — she  did  not  tell  us  what  it  was — he  was 
convicted  and  sentenced  to  five  years'  penal  servitude. 

"  Miss  Maguire — as  I  must  call  her;  I  could  never 
think  of  her  by  any  other  name — went  on  to  tell  us  that 
as  she  voyaged  back  to  England  she  became  more  and 


THE     KEY     TO     THE     PROBLEM  275 

more  appalled  by  the  thought  of  the  extreme  folly  of 
which  she  had  been  guilty,  and  decided  to  retain  her 
maiden  name  and  tell  no  one  of  her  unfortunate  marriage. 
She  heard  nothing  of  her  husband,  it  appears,  until 
about  fifteen  months  ago  when,  in  some  mysterious  way, 
he  discovered  that  she  was  living  in  the  South  of  France 
and  called  at  her  villa.  The  result  of  the  visit  was  that  Miss 
Maguire  agreed  to  make  this  man  a  liberal  yearly  allow- 
ance as  long  as  she  lived,  provided  that  he  did  not  go 
near  her,  communicate  with  her  in  any  way,  or  make  it 
known  to  anyone  that  he  was  her  lawful  husband.  If 
he  did  not  strictly  comply  with  those  conditions  the 
allowance  would  cease  and  she  would  seek  police  pro- 
tection. 

"It  appears  that  shortly  after  this  man's  visit  Miss 
Maguire  became  anxious  over  the  possibility  that  diffi- 
culties might  arise  at  her  death  owing  to  the  fact  that  her 
name  was  really  Carthew.  For  some  reason  she  seemed 
to  regard  my  wife  and  myself  as  the  only  people  whom 
she  could  trust  with  her  secret,  and  she  asked  us  if  we 
would  witness  her  signature  to  a  new  will  which  she  was 
making.  She  explained  that  she  had  caused  it  to  be  drawn 
up  in  duplicate  and  had  already  signed  one  copy  at  your 
office  with  the  name  Maguire.  The  copy  which  we  were 
to  witness  she  would  keep  amongst  her  private  papers. 
In  due  course  my  wife  and  I  witnessed  her  signature  to 
the  new  will  and  Miss  Maguire  then  instructed  me 
to  write  this  letter  to  you  in  the  event  of  her  death. 
"I  am,  yours  faithfully, 

"WILLIAM  MOLD." 

"A  very  remarkable  letter,"  observed  Crow  as 
he  handed  it  back  to  the  lawyer. 

"Very  remarkable.  I  fancy  that  it  may  clear  the 
ground  somewhat  for  you?" 

"The    news    that    Charles    Carthew,    or    Charles 


276          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

Rayner,  was  her  husband  certainly  explains  many 
things,"  Crow  replied.  "With  this  evidence,"  he 
went  on,  tapping  the  cable  with  his  finger,  "and  a 
report  on  the  two  brothers,  which  the  Assistant 
Commissioner  has  made  out  for  me,  I  hope  to  have 
young  Maguire  free  almost  as  soon  as  I  get  back  to 
Roquebrune." 

"I  do  not  see  how  they  can  possibly  hold  him 
when  you  have  laid  all  the  facts  before  them,"  Chart 
said. 

"No,  I  think  not,  but  those  French  police  are  a 
pig-headed  lot.  By  the  way,  what  is  the  position 
now  as  regards  the  will.  Does  it  hold?" 

"That  is  a  debatable  point,  I  think,"  replied 
Chart.  "It  is  obvious  that  she  was  not  Jennifer 
Maguire,  but  Jennifer  Carthew — or  perhaps  Rayner 
— when  she  signed  it;  but  I  should  say  that  a  judge 
would  uphold  it  if  it  were  contested.  It  is  obvious 
that  it  expresses  the  woman's  wishes,  whatever  her 
legal  name  may  have  been  at  the  time." 

"Quite.  I  don't  think,  however,  that  there  will 
be  any  quarrelling  about  it.  Michael  Maguire,  I  am 
sure,  will  consent  to  Coral  Trent  having  her  share." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

CROW   LAYS   DOWN   HIS   CARDS 

BEFORE  leaving  Paris  by  the  Blue  Train,  Martin 
Crow  sent  a  telegram  to  M.  Peille  saying  that 
he  was  returning  with  much  important  evidence 
and  would  be  calling  at  the  Prefecture  the  following 
morning,  as  soon  as  he  arrived  in  Nice.  Both  the 
Commissaire  and  M.  Robin,  the  Juge  d' Instruction, 
were  waiting  for  him.  The  former  greeted  Crow 
with  his  usual,  genial  manner,  but  the  latter  was 
gloomy,  and  preserved  his  resentful  attitude. 

"I  trust  that  you  have  made  a  good  journey,  my 
dear  M.  Crow?"  said  the  Commissaire  as  he  shook 
hands.  "You  have  met  M.  Robin  before,  I  believe." 
Crow  and  the  Juge  d' Instruction  did  not  shake 
hands  but  bowed  formally.  "Well,  you  have  news 
for  us?"  M.  Peille  asked  when  they  were  all 
seated. 

"I  have  some  remarkable  news  for  you,  M.  Peille, 
and  when  you  have  heard  it  I  think  you  will  agree 
with  me  that  Michael  Maguire  should  no  longer 
be  detained." 

"You  have  conclusive  proof  that  someone  else 
committed  the  crime?"  asked  M.  Robin,  who  was 
lounging  back  in  his  chair  with  his  bowler  cocked 

277 


278          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

on  one  side  of  his  head  and  a  hand-made  cigarette 
dangling  from  the  corner  of  his  mouth. 

"I  consider  that  I  have  sufficient  evidence  to 
warrant  his  release,"  Crow  replied,  coldly.  He  dis- 
liked the  self-assured  little  juge,  who,  he  knew,  did 
not  want  to  see  his  labours  of  the  past  fortnight 
swept  aside,  and  the  prospect  of  having  to  start 
his  investigations  afresh. 

"Perhaps  you  will  be  good  enough  to  give  us  an 
account  of  your  enquiries  in  England?"  suggested 
the  Commissaire  in  a  conciliatory  tone. 

"It  is  for  that  purpose  that  I  alighted  from  my 
train  at  Nice  and  came  here  without  delay,"  Crow 
replied.  "You  are  aware,  I  think,  that  I  have  always 
suspected  Boughton  of  having  had  something  to  do 
with  the  crime?" 

"A  man  who  could  have  had  no  possible  interest 
in  Mademoiselle's  death,"  interposed  M.  Robin. 
Martin  Crow  ignored  the  interruption  and  made  all 
his  observations  pointedly  to  M.  Peille. 

"Directly  I  arrived  in  London,  M.  le  Commissaire, 
I  visited  Scotland  Yard  where  I  asked  the  Assistant 
Commissioner  to  find  out  if  Boughton's  finger- 
prints appeared  amongst  their  collection.  I  have 
here  a  signed  report  which  I  will  leave  with  you.  In 
the  meantime  perhaps  you  would  like  me  to  translate 
it  to  you?" 

"Please,  M.  Crow." 

"It  is  headed  'Assistant  Commissioner's  Office, 
New  Scotland  Yard,  London,'  and  is  dated  April 


CROW     LAYS     DOWN     HIS     CARDS          279 

2nd.  It  says:  'The  finger-print  photographs  bearing 
the  stamp  of  the  Commissariat  of  Police  at  Nice, 
France,  and  marked  "Ernest  Boughton"  have  been 
found  to  correspond  with  the  prints  of  Ernest 
Rayner,  who  was  born  in  London  in  1885  and  was 
sentenced  in  1910  to  five  years'  imprisonment.  In 
1927  this  man  was  tried  and  sentenced  to  seven 
years'  penal  servitude  at  the  Old  Bailey  for  extensive 
frauds  in  connection  with  a  share-pushing  business. 
A  warrant  had  been  issued  for  the  arrest  of  his 
brother,  Charles  Rayner,  but  this  man  had  dis- 
appeared and  has  not  been  traced.  It  is  probable 
that  he  left  the  country.'  " 

"  But  what  has  that  to  do  with  the  crime  at  the  Villa 
Gloria?"  demanded  the  Juge  d' Instruction,  with  a 
note  of  triumph  in  his  harsh  voice.  Again  Martin  Crow 
ignored  him  and  confined  his  attention  to  M.  Peille. 

"The  newspaper  reports  of  the  trial  of  Ernest 
Rayner  enabled  me  to  get  into  touch  with  a  sister  of 
the  two  men  and  from  her  I  learnt  that  her  brother, 
Charles,  had  gone  to  Australia  and,  moreover,  that 
he  has  red  hair." 

"Ah!  Charles  Carthew,  for  whom  we  have  been 
making  enquiries,"  exclaimed  the  Commissaire. 
"But  this  is  interesting,  M.  Crow.  When  did  he 
go  to  Australia?" 

"In  1927,  the  same  year  that  Mile.  Maguire  went 
there  to  visit  her  sister,"  replied  Crow,  who  judged 
it  more  effective  to  bring  out  the  various  points  of  his 
information  by  slow  stages,  rather  than  all  at  once. 


280          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"You  think  that  they  were  known  to  each  other?" 
asked  M.  Peille. 

"From  the  London  offices  of  the  Oriental  Line 
I  learnt  that  Mile.  Maguire  and  Charles  Carthew 
travelled  to  Australia  on  the  same  boat,  but  I  could 
not  say  if  they  had  met  in  England.  She  landed 
at  Sydney  and  he  went  on  to  Melbourne.  When 
I  discovered  this  I  asked  Scotland  Yard  to  make 
enquiries  about  these  two  people  from  the  Australian 
police,  and  this  cable  was  received  in  London  the 
day  before  yesterday.  It  states  that  Charles  Carthew 
was  arrested  in  Melbourne  on  September  loth, 
1927,  as  he  was  about  to  embark  for  England  with 
his  wife,  otherwise  Miss  Jennifer  Maguire,  whom 
he  had  married  a  few  hours  previously." 

"Mile.  Maguire  married!"  cried  the  Commissaire. 
"But  this  is  formidable!  You  never  suspected  it, 
M.Crow?" 

"No,  I  am  afraid  I  have  been  very  slow.  Her 
being  married  explains  everything." 

"And  what  happened  to  this  Charles  Carthew?" 

"The  cable  says  that  he  was  sentenced  to  five 
years'  penal  servitude  for  robbery  with  violence. 
His  wife  attended  the  trial  and  walked  out  of  the 
court  directly  she  heard  the  verdict.  She  sailed  for 
England  a  few  days  later." 

"And  how  does  the  marriage  explain  everything, 
M.  Crow?"  asked  M.  Robin  in  a  less  aggressive  tone. 

"It  gives  us  a  reason  for  destroying  the  wills  and 
provides  a  motive.  It  has  always  been  the  absence 


CROW     LAYS     DOWN     HIS     CARDS          281 

of  a  motive  which  has  perplexed  me  when  I  have  been 
considering  Boughton  as  the  murderer,  or  as  an 
accessory.  Curiously  enough,  M.  Peille,  the  case 
now  centres  round  a  point  which  you  yourself  raised 
in  this  room  when  I  first  came  to  see  you,  with  the 
Consul  and  Maitre  Corbin.  Perhaps  you  remember 
that  you  suggested  that  Michael  Maguire  had 
destroyed  the  wills  so  that,  as  next-of-kin,  he  would 
inherit  the  whole  of  his  aunt's  fortune.  They  were 
destroyed  so  that  the  next-of-kin  should  inherit; 
but  that  person  was  the  lady's  lawful  husband, 
Charles  Carthew,  or  Charles  Rayner." 

"Yes,  yes,  that  is  all  clear,"  admitted  M.  Peille. 
"Then  what  part  do  you  think  Ernest  Boughton 
played?"  he  asked. 

"I  have  very  good  reasons  for  supposing  that  he 
thought  the  whole  thing  out.  The  sister  told  me 
that  the  two  brothers  had  always  been  devoted  to 
each  other  and  that  Ernest  had  always  been  the 
leader;  the  one  who  planned  everything  and  per- 
suaded Charles  to  join  him  in  any  enterprise.  I  can 
hardly  believe  that  Ernest  became  Mile.  Maguire's 
butler  by  chance.  When  he  heard  that  his  brother 
was  in  prison  in  Australia,  and  had  married  a  wealthy 
English  woman,  he  probably  schemed  to  get  into  her 
service.  Whether  Mile.  Maguire  ever  knew  that 
her  butler  was  her  brother-in-law,  or  was  in  any 
way  connected  with  Charles,  I  cannot  say.  It  is 
possible  that  the  two  men  may  have  tried  to  black- 
mail her,  but  I  imagine  that  she  was  a  woman  who 


282          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

would  not  have  been  easily  intimidated.  It  appears 
to  me,  from  other  evidence  which  I  have  obtained, 
that  Charles  visited  his  wife  and  tried  to  induce  her 
to  make  him  a  substantial  allowance,  but  all  that  he 
could  get  was  £500  a  year,  a  sum  which  could  hardly 
have  satisfied  himself  or  Ernest.  It  is  probable  that 
Ernest  overheard  his  mistress  discussing  the  terms 
of  her  will  with  Mile.  Trent,  and  also  heard  that 
Michael  Maguire  was  going  to  be  ordered  to  marry 
his  cousin.  Ernest  would  have  foreseen  that  there 
would  be  trouble  between  aunt  and  nephew,  and 
realised  that  his  presence  at  the  villa  would  give 
them  an  opportunity  to  commit  a  crime  for  which 
he,  Maguire,  would  very  likely  be  suspected.  You 
may  recollect,  M.  Peille,  that  I  suspected  one  of 
the  servants  of  trying  to  overhear  what  was  being  said 
when  M.  Chart  was  telling  us  the  terms  of  the  will  ? " 

"Yes,  yes,  I  remember." 

"Boughton,  I  imagine,  is  an  accomplished  eaves- 
dropper. I  can  see  him,  in  my  mind,  listening  in 
the  salon  on  that  Monday  night  when  Mile.  Maguire 
first  told  her  nephew  that  he  was  to  marry  his  cousin ; 
and  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  when  M.  Maguire 
had  gone  up  to  his  room,  and  Mademoiselle  was 
settled  with  her  patience  cards,  Ernest  Boughton 
went  down  to  the  Bar  Imbert,  told  his  brother  of 
what  he  had  overheard,  and  then  planned  the 
murder,  the  manufacture  of  evidence  which  would 
incriminate  Maguire;  and  Charles's  subsequent 
escape." 


CROW     LAYS     DOWN     HIS     CARDS          283 

"Your  opinion  is  that  Charles  actually  killed  the 
woman?"  asked  the  Commissaire. 

"Yes." 

"Did  you  happen  to  find  out  if  he  was  right  or 
left-handed,"  asked  the  Juge  d' Instruction,  with  a 
generous  touch  of  sarcasm  in  his  voice. 

"He  is  left-handed,  M.  Robin." 

"Do  you  think  that  Ernest  did  anything  after  he 
had  planned  the  thing?"  asked  M.  Peille. 

"I  cannot  possibly  say,"  Crow  replied.  "I  think 
it  is  probable  that  he  went  into  the  library  as  soon 
as  the  murder  was  committed,  and  he  may  have 
burnt  the  wills  while  Charles  was  making  his  escape. 
No  doubt  he  intended  closing  and  fastening  the 
windows  when  he  had  completed  his  work  at  the 
fire  and  was  probably  prevented  from  doing  so  by 
hearing  Michael  Maguire  coming  down  the  stairs. 
He  could  have  hidden  behind  the  curtain  over  the 
library  door." 

"You  are  assuming  that  he  crept  downstairs  after 
he  had  been  seen  going  to  his  room  by  Mile.  Trent." 

"Yes." 

"And  the  mille  notes  which  were  found  in 
M.  Maguire's  valise,  you  think  that  Boughton  put 
them  there  in  order  to  make  suspicion  against  the 
young  man?" 

"Undoubtedly." 

"Then  what  have  you  to  say  about  M.  Berwick. 
Do  you  think  that  he  had  anything  to  do  with  the 
crime?" 


CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"No,  I  don't." 

"But  his  sudden  disappearance,  M.  Crowe?" 

"He  probably  did  not  think  that  Mile.  Maguire's 
thousands  were  worth  risking  his  neck,"  Crow  replied. 

The  Commissaire  rubbed  his  chin  thoughtfully. 

"Mon  Dieu!  It  is  an  extraordinary  case,"  he 
murmured. 

"Have  you  any  fresh  news  about  Charles 
Carthew?"  asked  Crow.  "My  daughter  wrote  to 
tell  me  that  you  had  traced  him  as  far  as  Marseilles." 

M.  Peille  searched  amongst  some  papers  on  his 
desk  and  eventually  selected  one  of  them. 

"Yes,  this  came  in  this  morning,"  he  said.  "It 
is  from  my  distinguished  colleague  at  Marseilles. 
He  says:  'Man  with  red  hair,  supposed  to  be  English, 
crossed  over  to  Ajaccio  on  Napoleon  Bonapart,  on 
Wednesday,  March  28th.  Ajaccio  police  confirm 
his  arrival  there,  and  are  investigating.  It  is  known 
that  he  departed  from  the  town  in  great  haste 
immediately  he  arrived." 

Crow  nodded  his  head  contentedly. 

"It  should  not  be  long  before  he  is  found,"  he 
said.  "And  now,  M.  Peille,  I  suppose  there  is  no 
need  for  you  to  detain  Michael  Maguire  any  longer?" 

"Good  heavens!  But  you  have  not  established  his 
innocence  or  proved  that  anyone  else  took  part  in  the 
crime,"  exclaimed  M.  Robin,  indignantly.  "I  admit 
that  your  news  points  to  Boughton  and  the  other  man 
being  concerned,  but  your  evidence  is  only  circum- 
stantial." 


CROW     LAYS     DOWN     HIS     CARDS          285 

"There  is  reason  in  what  M.  Robin  says,"  the 
Commissaire  remarked,  soothingly.  "If  I  had  any 
proof  at  all  that  Ernest  Boughton  had  made  a  contra- 
vention in  any  way,  I  might  arrest  him  and  then, 
with  the  Prefet's  approval,  release  young  Maguire 
on  parole.  But  at  the  moment,  that  is  impossible. 
We  must  find  this  Charles  Carthew,  or  Rayner, 
and  question  him  closely.  And  we  must  talk  to 
Boughton  again.  If  they  were  concerned  with  the 
woman's  death  it  will  not  be  long  before  we  get 
some  admission  out  of  them  which  will  enable  us 
to  arrest  them." 

"Would  you  release  Maguire  if  I  could  prove  to 
you  that  Boughton  was  warning  his  brother  that 
enquiries  were  being  made  in  Corsica  for  him,  and 
if  you  caught  Boughton  trying  to  get  rid  of  me  again  ?" 
Crow  asked. 

"Under  those  circumstances  I  would  recommend 
his  release  to  the  Preiet,"  replied  M.  Peille. 

"Then  I  will  endeavour  to  supply  you  with  that 
information  without  delay.  Could  you  let  me  have 
the  assistance  of  two  armed  men  this  evening?" 

"But  what  is  it  that  you  will  do,  M.  Crow?" 
demanded  the  Commissaire. 

"I  will  tell  you,  M.  Peille."  And  Martin  Crow 
outlined  a  plan  which  met  with  the  Commissaire's 
approval,  and  half  an  hour  later  he  was  leaving  the 
Prefecture.  He  did  not  go  over  to  Roquebrune  but 
walked  along  to  the  Avenue  de  la  Victoire  where 
he  entered  a  restaurant  and  ordered  lunch.  While 


286  CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

he  was  waiting  for  it  he  went  into  the  telephone 
cabin  and  put  through  a  call  to  the  Pension 
Mireille.  Mile.  Antoinette  answered,  and  he  asked 
if  he  could  talk  to  his  daughter. 

"Good  morning,  my  dear,  and  how  are  you  all?" 

"Very  well,  but  where  are  you  speaking  from, 
Father?" 

"A  restaurant  in  Nice.  I  have  some  important 
instructions  for  you,  Gerry.  As  soon  as  I  have  had 
lunch  I  am  going  to  the  Villa  Gloria  and  I  am  going 
to  tell  Coral  Trent  that  my  room  at  the  Pension 
is  let,  and  ask  if  she  will  put  me  up  for  the  night." 

"But ?" 

"Don't  ask  any  questions,  my  dear.  It  is  hardly 
likely  that  anyone  will  go  and  ask  Mme.  Ribaud  or 
Mile.  Antoinette  any  questions,  but  if  they  should,  I 
would  like  them  to  bear  me  out  about  my  room  being 
occupied.  I  think  you  can  warn  them  tactfully." 

"Very  well.   Anything  else ?" 

"I  don't  think  so,  my  dear,  except  that  I  hope  to 
be  able  to  take  breakfast  with  you  and  Alison  in  the 
garden  to-morrow  at  nine  o'clock." 

"You  sound  terribly  mysterious,  Father." 

Martin  Crow  chuckled. 

"  Do  I  ?  Well,  I  must  go  or  my  lunch  will  be  getting 
cold.  Good-bye  till  to-morrow,  and  my  love  to  Alison." 

Before  going  over  to  Roquebrune  Martin  Crow 
bought  a  small  suit-case  in  which  he  packed  three 
other  purchases  which  he  made  in  various  parts  of 
Nice. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

CORAL   TRENT   CONFIDES 

MARTIN  CROW  hired  a  car  and  drove  over 
to  Roquebrune  where  he  was  admitted  to 
the  Villa  Gloria  by  Boughton. 

"Is  Miss  Trent  at  home?" 

"I  think  she  is  in  the  garden,  sir.  Will  you  come 
into  the  drawing-room?" 

"I  am  wondering  if  Miss  Trent  could  possibly 
put  me  up  for  the  night,"  Crow  said  as  he  followed 
the  butler  across  the  hall.  "I  have  only  just  returned 
from  London  and  I  find  that  my  room  at  the  Pension 
Mireille  has  been  let,  and  as  I  am  going  across  to 
Corsica  to-morrow  I  did  not  want  the  inconvenience 
of  having  to  go  to  another  hotel." 

Crow  had  been  watching  the  man  closely  and  noticed 
the  slight  movement,  and  almost  imperceptible 
stiffening  of  his  muscles,  as  the  name  of  the  island 
was  mentioned. 

"I  am  sure  Miss  Trent  will  be  only  too  pleased," 
he  said,  quickly  recovering  his  composure.  "Will 
you  sit  down,  sir,  and  I  will  tell  Miss  Trent  that  you 
are  here."  He  was  about  to  go  out  of  the  room  when 
he  paused  and  turned.  "May  I  venture  to  ask  if 
you  have  any  news  of  Mr.  Michael,  sir?"  he  asked. 

287 


288          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"I  have  not  seen  him  for  more  than  a  week,  but 
I  understand  that  he  is  in  good  health  and  as  cheerful 
as  could  be  expected  under  his  trying  conditions." 

"Can  you  say  when  the  trial  is  likely  to  take 
place?" 

"His  trial?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"It  is  most  unlikely  that  he  will  have  to  appear 
before  a  court,"  replied  Crow.  "At  least,  I  hope 
he  won't." 

"Indeed.  May  I  ask  if  the  police  have  got  on  to 
the  track  of  someone  else?" 

"They  haven't.  They  are  still  convinced  that 
Mr.  Maguire  murdered  his  aunt,  but  I  have  very 
good  reasons  for  thinking  that  an  Australian  by  the 
name  of  Carthew  was  concerned  with  the  crime. 
Have  you  ever  heard  of  anyone  of  that  name  since 
you  have  been  in  Miss  Maguire's  service?" 

"Carthew,  did  you  say,  sir?" 

"Yes,  Charles  Carthew." 

Boughton  shook  his  head. 

"I  have  never  heard  the  name  before,  as  far  as 
I  can  recollect." 

"You  don't  remember  Miss  Maguire  ever  receiv- 
ing a  visitor  of  that  name,  either  here  or  in  England  ? " 

"The  name  is  quite  unknown  to  me,  sir.  Do  you 
happen  to  know  what  the  man  is  like,  sir?" 

"I  know  nothing  about  him  except  that  he  is 
supposed  to  be  an  Australian  and  went  across  to 
Corsica  the  day  after  Miss  Maguire  met  her  death. 


CORAL  TRENT  CONFIDES        289 

That  is  why  I  am  going  over  there  to-morrow,  so 
that  I  can  verify  all  my  information  and  then  lay 
the  facts  before  the  Commissaire.  At  present  he 
does  not  know  anything  about  this  man,  Carthew." 

"Do  you  think  you  will  be  able  to  track  him  down, 
sir?" 

"It  will  not  take  me  very  long  to  discover  his 
whereabouts  when  once  I  am  over  there,"  Crow 
replied  with  confidence. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  then  Boughton 
said, 

"It  is  a  most  extraordinary  affair,  sir,  and  I  can 
only  hope  that  you  will  be  successful  in  finding  the 
murderer  and  bring  him  to  justice.  I  will  go  and 
tell  Miss  Trent  that  you  wish  to  see  her,  sir." 

"One  moment.  I  particularly  wish  to  talk  with 
her  privately,  and  I  should  be  obliged  if  I  could  see 
her  here,  not  in  the  garden." 

"I  will  tell  her  what  you  say,  sir." 

Martin  Crow  paced  slowly  up  and  down  the  room 
for  several  minutes  with  his  hands  clasped  behind 
his  back.  He  was  smiling  faintly.  Presently  he 
went  across  to  one  of  the  windows  and  was  standing 
there,  watching  a  number  of  small  sailing  boats 
racing  off  Monte  Carlo,  when  he  heard  someone 
entering  the  room. 

"You  wish  to  see  me,  Mr.  Crow?"  Coral  Trent 
asked.  She  was  restrained  and  nervous,  as  she  had 
been  when  he  first  saw  her,  the  morning  he  called 
with  Gerry. 


CRIME  AT  THE  VILLA  GLORIA 

"Yes,  I  have  come  to  ask  a  favour,  Miss  Trent. 
Perhaps  Boughton  told  you  what  it  is?" 

She  went  forward  and  sat  down  on  one  of  the 
Louis  XIV  chairs. 

"He  said  something  about  your  wishing  to  stay 
here  for  the  night,"  she  answered,  avoiding  his 
eyes. 

Martin  Crow  thought  that  he  heard  a  slight 
movement  in  the  dining-room  and  it  was  with 
difficulty  that  he  restrained  himself  from  looking  in 
that  direction. 

"I  have  just  returned  from  London,  where  I 
have  been  making  extensive  enquiries  relative  to 
your  aunt's  death,"  he  said,  raising  his  voice  a 
little.  "When  I  got  back  to  the  Pension  I  found 
that  my  room  had  been  let  during  my  absence  and 
that  it  won't  be  free  for  two  or  three  days.  I  have 
rather  a  horror  of  going  to  hotels  which  I  do  not 
know,  and  I  thought  that  as  it  is  only  for  one  night 
you  might  be  good  enough  to  put  me  up." 

"  I  shall  be  only  too  pleased,  Mr.  Crow.  Boughton 
suggested  that  you  should  have  the  room  over  the 
front  door. 

"That  is  very  good  of  you.  I  don't  mind  what 
sort  of  a  room  it  is.  I  shall  be  leaving  quite  early 
in  the  morning.  I  am  hoping  to  discover  the  where- 
abouts of  the  individual  who  murdered  Miss 
Maguire." 

"You  are  still  of  the  opinion  that  my  cousin  is 
innocent?" 


CORAL  TRENT  CONFIDES       291 

"I  am  certain  he  is,  Miss  Trent." 

"You  know  who  did  do  it?" 

"I  do  not  know  for  certain,  but  I  have  very  strong 
suspicions.  Did  you  ever  hear  your  aunt  talk  of  a 
man  named  Charles  Carthew?" 

"Charles  Carthew?  I  have  never  heard  the  name 
before." 

"  During  the  time  that  you  lived  with  Miss  Maguire 
did  she,  to  your  knowledge,  ever  receive  a  visit 
from  a  man  who  was  probably  an  Australian?" 

"Never.    Why  do  you  ask,  Mr.  Crow?" 

"Because  if  I  find  an  Australian  named  Charles 
Carthew  I  believe  that  I  shall  have  found  your  aunt's 
murderer." 

"Then  you  don't  suspect  Alan?"  asked  Coral 
in  a  changed  tone.  She  suddenly  appeared  to  be 
more  at  her  ease  and  less  apprehensive. 

"Alan  Berwick?  But  why  should  I  suspect  him, 
Miss  Trent?" 

A  sound  in  the  adjoining  room  caused  Coral 
to  turn  sharply  and  Crow  noticed  that  in  an  instant 
her  bearing  had  become  tense  again.  She  stood 
up  and  went  towards  the  window. 

"Shall  we  go  into  the  garden?"  she  asked.  "It 
.  .  .  it  is  so  hot  in  here." 

Having  achieved  his  purpose  in  talking  to  her  for 
a  few  minutes  in  the  drawing-room,  Crow  readily 
consented. 

"  By  all  means,"  he  said,  and  followed  her  on  to 
the  terrace. 


CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Let  us  go  along  to  those  chairs  under  the  um- 
brella," Coral  said,  leading  him  to  a  bay  in  the 
terrace  wall  where  three  wicker  chairs  were  arranged 
round  a  table.  They  sat  down  and  the  girl  fixed  her 
eyes  upon  the  little  sailing  boats  which  were  now 
running  before  the  wind  towards  the  entrance  to 
Monaco  harbour.  She  did  not  speak,  but  her  lips 
moved  as  if  she  were  forming  words  and  could  not 
make  up  her  mind  to  utter  them. 

"Won't  you  tell  me  all  about  it?"  Crow  said  in 
his  most  persuasive  tone. 

"Tell  you  what?"  asked  Coral,  looking  at  him 
keenly. 

"About  that  which  is  troubling  you." 

Her  eyes  went  back  to  the  little  sailing  boats  and 
a  minute  or  more  elapsed  before  she  spoke. 

"He  terrifies  me,"  she  said  at  length. 

"Who  does?" 

"Boughton." 

"How?" 

"I  can  hardly  explain.  I  didn't  mean  to  tell 
anyone,  but  just  now  ...  I  ...  I  knew  that 
he  was  in  the  dining-room  listening  to  what  we  were 
saying." 

"But  why  does  he  terrify  you?" 

"He  seems "    She  broke  off  and  shuddered. 

"What  does  he  seem?" 

Coral  glanced  furtively  round  and  when  she  spoke 
again  she  lowered  her  voice. 

"He  is  like  a  great  cat  walking  about  the  house 


CORAL     TRENT     CONFIDES  293 

so  silently,  as  if  he  was  always  spying.  I  didn't 
notice  it  when  I  first  came  to  stay  here.  It  has  been 
recently.  It  began  a  few  days,  perhaps  a  week,  before 
the  .  .  .  before  my  aunt  died.  Whenever  she  and 
I  were  together  in  one  of  the  rooms  I  always  felt 
that  he  was  somewhere  near,  listening  and  watching." 

"Did  your  aunt  notice  anything?" 

"No.  I  once  told  her  that  I  thought  he  was  trying 
to  overhear  what  we  were  saying,  but  she  only 
laughed  and  said  that  I  was  imagining  things. 
But  you  haven't  answered  my  question  about  Alan, 
Mr.  Crow." 

"Why  should  you  have  thought  that  I  suspected 
him  of  having  had  anything  to  do  with  your  aunt's 
death?" 

"He  said  he  thought  you  did,  and  that  your 
daughter  certainly  suspected  him." 

"When  did  he  tell  you  that?" 

"I  don't  think  I  can  remember  which  day  it 
was;  but  one  evening  he  went  down  to  your  Pension 
to  tell  you  that  the  police  had  taken  his  finger- 
prints." 

"Yes,  he  did." 

"And  you  told  him  that  you  were  certain  my 
aunt's  murderer  was  a  left-handed  man." 

"That  is  quite  right." 

"He  is  left-handed,  and  he  said  you  knew  he 
was." 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  my  dear  Miss  Trent,  I  did 
not  know  which  hand  he  used  habitually  until " 


294          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Yes,  yes,  I  know;  you  went  to  speak  to  the 
Commissaire  on  the  'phone  and  your  daughter  found 
out  by  making  him  throw  stones  at  a  tree.  He 
thought  he  had  been  tricked,  and  I  believe  he  lost 
his  temper  and  insulted  you.  Alan  is  really  little 
more  than  a  child,  Mr.  Crow,  and  absurdly  nervous. 
He  was  in  a  dreadful  state  that  night,  and  came  up 
here  to  tell  me  all  about  it.  He  said  he  was  certain 
that  he  would  be  arrested,  and  that  everyone  was 
against  him.  He  said  he  was  going  to  get  away 
before  they  could  get  hold  of  him.  I  tried  to  per- 
suade him  to  stay,  but  he  wouldn't.  You  surely 
suspected  him  that  night,  Mr.  Crow?" 

"To  be  perfectly  frank  I  suspected  that  he  might 
possibly  have  had  something  to  do  with  the  crime, 
but  I  never  thought  that  he  struck  the  blow 
which  resulted  in  Miss  Maguire's  death,"  Crow 
replied. 

"But  why?  Just  because  he  had  admitted  being 
in  the  Villa  garden  that  night?" 

"Not  only  because  of  those  two  facts,  Miss  Trent. 
You  see,  for  some  reason  both  you  and  he  had 
been  trying  to  mislead  my  daughter  and  myself. 
That  morning,  for  example,  when  we  first  made 
your  acquaintance,  down  there  on  one  of  the 
lower  terraces,  you  led  us  to  suppose  that  Alan 
Berwick  was  on  the  friendliest  terms  with  your 
aunt;  in  fact  that  he  was  her  friend  rather  than 
yours.  And  then  afterwards  he  told  me  several 
things  which  were  quite  untrue;  that  he  had  been 


CORAL  TRENT  CONFIDES        295 

sent  down  here  for  his  health  and  that  he  had  never 
wished  to  marry  you." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  we  were  both  very  silly,"  Coral 
said.  Since  they  had  been  sitting  in  the  garden  she 
had  been  displaying  a  naturalness  which  Crow  had 
never  seen  in  her  before. 

"Why  did  you  do  it,  Miss  Trent?" 

Coral  did  not  reply  immediately.  She  sat  with 
her  chin  resting  upon  her  hand  and  her  elbow  sup- 
ported on  her  knee.  After  a  few  moments  she  sat 
upright  and  looked  unhesitatingly  at  Crow. 

"We  were  terribly  afraid,"  she  said.  "You  must 
try  to  understand  that  the  fifteen  months  during 
which  I  had  been  living  with  my  aunt  were  the 
unhappiest  months  of  my  life.  To  strangers  she 
may  have  appeared  to  be  a  normal,  pleasant  woman; 
but  she  was  a  tyrant  who  was  never  happy  unless 
she  was  imposing  her  will  upon  someone.  It  was 
not  so  bad  when  we  were  here  last  year,  or  after- 
wards when  we  were  travelling  about.  But  when 
we  were  staying  at  Merryfields  and  Alan  and  I  fell 
in  love  with  each  other  she  made  my  life  unbearable. 
And  from  that  time  onwards  it  became  worse  and 
worse.  She  made  me  spend  hours  every  day  learning 
French  which  I  hated.  The  climax  came  when  she 
conceived  the  mad  idea  of  forcing  Michael  and 
me  to  marry.  I  knew  that  she  would  threaten  to 
make  him  penniless,  and  I  knew  that  she  would 
treat  me  in  the  same  way  if  I  defied  her  about 
Alan." 


296          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"Are  you  going  to  marry  Mr.  Berwick  when  all 
this  business  has  been  cleared  up?" 

There  was  a  long  pause  during  which  Coral  gazed 
into  the  far  distance. 

"Yes,  I  am,"  she  replied  suddenly.  Another 
pause.  "  I  see  that  you  do  not  approve,  Mr.  Crow." 

"Am  I  so  transparent  as  that?"  he  answered,  a 
little  surprised  by  the  quickness  of  her  perception. 

"I  know  that  you  have  rather  a  poor  opinion 
of  Alan." 

"I  scarcely  know  him.  I  have  only  met  him 
twice." 

"I  imagine  that  it  does  not  take  you  very  long  to 
sum  people  up.  Of  course  you  think  that  Alan  only 
wants  me  for  the  money  which  he  hopes  I  shall 
inherit.  Perhaps  you  are  right." 

"And  you  will  marry  him  on  those  terms?" 

"Certainly.  Alan  may  be  weak  and  irresponsible, 
but  he  can  be  led." 

"You  failed  to  persuade  him  to  stay  here?" 
said  Crow. 

"Because  I  did  not  press  the  point.  He  was  in 
such  a  nervous,  almost  hysterical  state,  that  I  thought 
it  might  be  better  if  he  went.  He  wanted  me  to  go, 
too,  but  I  knew  that  that  would  be  very  unwise." 

"You  know  where  he  is?" 

"In  Rome." 

"I  appreciate  your  confidence  in  me,  Miss  Trent." 

Coral  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  smiled. 

"I  realise  now  that  you  do  not  suspect  him  at 


CORAL  TRENT  CONFIDES        297 

all.  I  expect  you  think,  as  I  do,  that  he  would  not 
have  the  courage  to  commit  a  crime  like  that." 

"It  was  because  I  originally  formed  that  opinion 
of  him  that  I  never  really  thought  that  he  had 
murdered  your  aunt,  but  I  did  think  that  he  might 
have  been  persuaded  by  someone  to  take  a  passive 
part,  in  some  way." 

"It  is  because  of  his  weakness  of  character  that 
I  am  resolved  to  marry  him,  Mr.  Crow.  Alan  needs 
a  guiding  hand." 

"I  can  only  wish  you  every  happiness,  Miss 
Trent." 

"We  make  our  own  happiness  when  once  we  have 
learnt  our  lesson,  don't  we,  Mr.  Crow?" 

A  gong  sounded  in  the  villa  and  half  an  hour 
later  they  dined  on  the  terrace  outside  the  dining- 
room. 

"I  should  like  to  be  called  early,"  Crow  said  as 
they  got  up  from  the  table. 

"At  what  time,  sir?"  Boughton  asked. 

"Half  past  six,  if  that  is  not  too  early  for  you." 

"I  am  always  up  at  that  hour,  sir.  Will  you 
take  a  cup  of  tea  then,  sir?" 

"If  I  might  have  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a  roll  I  shall 
not  require  anything  more.  I  am  rather  a  heavy 
sleeper  so  you  may  have  to  come  in  and  shake  me." 

"I  will  see  that  you  are  roused,  sir,"  said  Boughton 
as  he  began  to  remove  the  things  from  the  table. 

Soon  after  ten  o'clock  Martin  Crow  said  good 
night  and  went  upstairs. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

BOUGHTON   FAILS  AGAIN 

WHEN  Martin  Crow  entered  his  room  he 
walked  across  to  the  windows  and  threw 
back  the  green  shutters.  For  several  minutes  he 
stood  there,  looking  across  the  garden,  towards 
the  village,  perched  high  up  on  the  mountain- 
side. The  path  leading  up  to  it  was  clearly 
marked  by  a  zig-zagging  row  of  brilliant  electric 
lights. 

After  a  while  Crow  turned  and  took  stock  of  the 
arrangement  of  the  furniture  in  the  room.  The 
bed  was  facing  the  window,  with  its  head  against 
the  wall.  The  door  was  on  the  right  of  the  bed,  as 
he  looked  at  it;  and  a  large,  built-in  wardrobe  was 
on  the  left.  A  dressing-table,  with  flounces,  stood  on 
one  side  of  the  window,  and  a  large  easy  chair 
on  the  other.  Crow  went  across  to  the  wardrobe 
and  looked  inside.  It  was  spacious  and  would  have 
permitted  a  person  of  normal  height  to  stand  up- 
right in  the  hanging  compartment.  He  appeared 
to  be  well  pleased  with  his  investigation  for  he  was 
smiling  to  himself  as  he  went  across  to  the  other 
side  of  the  room  and  began  to  unpack  the  suit-case 
which  he  had  bought  in  Nice  that  afternoon.  Its 

298 


BOUGHTON     FAILS     AGAIN  299 

contents  consisted  of  a  white  wig,  two  small  cushions 
and  a  ball  of  thick  string.  He  laid  these  things  on 
the  bed. 

For  several  seconds  Martin  Crow  stood  looking 
thoughtfully  at  his  recent  purchases;  then  he  glanced 
round  at  the  door.  There  was  a  small  bolt  on  a  line 
with  the  handle  and  he  tried  to  shoot  it  across; 
but  it  only  moved  a  fraction  of  an  inch.  There  was 
no  key.  Neither  of  these  discoveries  caused  him  any 
surprise  and  after  a  moment's  consideration  he  hung 
his  handkerchief  over  the  bolt  so  that  it  covered  the 
keyhole.  He  then  turned  his  attention  to  the  things 
on  the  bed  once  more. 

During  the  next  half  hour  Crow  worked  deftly 
and  silently.  He  turned  back  the  bed-clothes  and 
then  manipulated  the  two  cushions,  one  of  the 
pillows,  and  the  white  wig  until  he  had  built  up  a 
form  which,  when  the  clothes  were  replaced,  re- 
sembled a  white-haired  man  sleeping  on  his  right 
side,  with  his  back  to  the  door.  He  took  the  greatest 
care  to  make  his  dummy  realistic,  and  when  he  was 
entirely  satisfied  with  the  result  he  returned  to  the 
window  and  stood  there,  framed  against  the  lighted 
room,  until  he  saw  a  faint  flicker  in  the  shrubbery 
below.  He  glanced  at  his  watch.  It  was  a  quarter 
to  eleven.  During  the  next  fifteen  minutes  he  moved 
about  the  room  and  splashed  water  in  the  wash- 
basin, as  if  he  was  preparing  for  bed.  At  the  end 
of  that  time  he  picked  up  the  ball  of  string  from  the 
bed,  switched  out  the  light  and  returned  to  the 


300          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

window  once  more.  Unwinding  the  string  he 
allowed  one  end  to  fall  over  the  outer  sill  and  drop 
on  to  the  path  below.  As  soon  as  he  felt  a  slight 
jerk  he  began  pulling  the  string  in  until  a  rope 
ladder  came  into  sight.  It  was  fitted  with  two 
stout  hooks  which  he  fastened  round  the  inner  sill. 
After  a  short  interval  a  bowler  hat  appeared  and  the 
next  moment  Crow  was  helping  M.  Peille  to  climb 
into  the  room.  Both  men  then  gave  their  assistance 
to  the  Brigadier  who,  being  a  large  man,  found  it 
more  difficult  to  climb  over  the  sill. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken  and  scarcely  a  sound 
made  as  Crow  took  his  companions  over  to  the 
bed,  and,  by  the  light  of  his  electric  torch,  showed 
them  the  dummy.  The  Commissaire  nodded  his 
head  approvingly  and  taking  a  slip  of  paper  from  his 
pocket  handed  it  to  Crow  who  looked  at  it  at  once. 
It  was  a  telegraph  form  which  bore  the  stamp  of 
the  Beausoleil  post  office  and  was  timed  for  5.30 
p.m.  of  that  day.  The  following  address  and  mes- 
sage were  in  the  hand-writing  of  the  sender: 

"Charles  Carthew,  Cafe  Bellacosia,  Pentica,  Corse. 
Leave  for  Italy  at  once  or  be  prepared  for  unwelcome 
visitor.  E." 

Crow  smiled  and  handed  the  form  back  to  the 
Commissaire.  He  then  showed  them  the  wardrobe, 
indicating  that  he  would  hide  himself  inside  it, 
and  he  pointed  to  the  chair  and  dressing-table. 
M.  Peille  understood  and  motioned  to  the  Brigadier 


BOUGHTON     FAILS     AGAIN  301 

to  conceal  himself  behind  the  latter  while  he  took 
up  a  position  behind  the  chair. 

Martin  Crow  stepped  into  the  wardrobe  and 
arranged  the  door  so  that  it  was  almost  closed  but 
permitted  him  to  see  the  further  side  of  the  bed 
and  the  door  of  the  room.  With  a  revolver  in  one 
hand,  and  his  torch  in  the  other,  he  made  himself 
as  comfortable  as  the  restricted  space  would  permit. 
The  time  passed  with  wearying  slowness,  but  Crow 
was  prepared  for  this.  He  was  well  aware  that  his 
plan  might  fail  altogether,  but  even  if  it  succeeded 
he  knew  that  they  might  have  to  wait  until  the  hour 
before  dawn. 

Owing  to  his  abnormal  height  Crow  was  not 
able  to  stand  upright  and  he  knelt  down,  first 
on  one  knee  and  then  on  the  other,  but  always 
with  his  attention  upon  the  other  side  of  the 
room.  He  heard  the  village  clock  strike  twelve, 
one,  and  two,  and  then  a  long  time  elapsed  before 
the  three  men  stiffened  themselves  and  listened 
intently.  Their  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  door  of 
the  room  and  after  a  few  seconds  they  saw  it  being 
opened  slowly.  Suddenly  a  faint  light  filled  the 
room  and  they  saw  the  figure  of  a  man  moving 
stealthily  across  to  the  bed.  He  held  a  torch  in  one 
hand  and  was  directing  the  light  on  to  the  floor, 
as  if  he  were  afraid  lest  the  glare  might  wake  the  man 
who,  he  supposed,  was  sleeping.  They  could  only 
guess  what  he  held  in  the  other  hand. 

Crow   was   watching   every   movement   that   the 


302          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

man  made.  He  saw  him  pause  as  he  reached  the 
side  of  the  bed;  he  saw  his  right  hand  go  up,  and  he 
heard  a  sharp  click. 

"Put  your  hands  up,  Boughton,  or  I  fire,"  Crow 
cried. 

Boughton  wheeled  round  and  found  the  beams  of 
three  torches  trained  upon  him.  His  hand  went 
up  again,  but  the  click  as  his  trigger  fell  was  drowned 
by  the  report  of  the  Brigadier's  weapon.  There  was 
a  muttered  oath  and  Boughton  staggered  back 
against  the  wall  and  slithered  to  the  ground. 

"Be  careful!"  cried  the  Commissaire  as  the 
Brigadier  sprang  forward  and  switched  on  the  light. 
But  Boughton  was  not  feinting.  He  was  wearing 
an  overcoat  over  his  pyjamas  and  a  red  stain  on  the 
light-coloured  jacket  showed  that  he  had  been  hit 
in  the  chest.  The  Commissaire  knelt  down  beside 
him  and  examined  the  wound. 

"Your  aim  is  too  good,  Brigadier,"  he  said. 
"  I  doubt  if  we  shall  get  anything  out  of  him.  I  must 
go  and  telephone  for  a  doctor." 

From  across  the  landing  there  came  the  frightened 
cries  of  Coral  Trent,  asking  what  had  happened. 
Crow  went  to  her  door  and  as  he  knocked  he  heard 
excited  voices  coming  from  the  servants'  sleeping 
quarters  on  the  far  side  of  the  villa. 

"It  is  Martin  Crow,"  he  said  at  Coral's  door. 
"There  is  no  need  to  be  alarmed." 

"Oh,  what  has  happened?  I'm  so  terrified," 
came  back  the  girl's  hysterical  voice. 


BOUGHTON     FAILS     AGAIN  303 

"Please  do  not  be  alarmed,  Miss  Trent.  M. 
Peille  and  his  men  are  here.  You  are  quite  safe." 

Crow  heard  footsteps  in  the  room  and  then  the 
door  was  opened  a  few  inches.  Coral  was  trembling 
violently  and  could  scarcely  speak. 

"But  what  has  happened?"  she  managed  to  say. 

"Boughton  tried  to  kill  me  again,  and  he  has 
been  shot." 

"He  is  dead?"  she  asked  eagerly. 

"I  don't  know." 

"But  why  did  he  try  to  kill  you?" 

"He  knew  that  I  had  discovered  that  he  planned 
your  aunt's  death." 

"He  killed  her?" 

"I  don't  think  so,  but  he  planned  it  all." 

Coral  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  and  sat 
down  on  a  chair  by  the  door. 

"Thank  God  that  man  won't  be  able  to  terrify 
me  any  more,"  she  murmured. 

While  they  waited  for  the  doctor  to  come  Crow 
knelt  down  by  Boughton's  side  and  translated  the 
questions  which  the  Commissaire  asked,  but  the  man 
was  dying  and  did  not  appear  to  hear.  He  lay  motion- 
less, and  as  he  groaned  blood  oozed  from  his  lips. 

"Ask  him  straight  out  what  Charles  Carthew  had 
to  do  with  the  crime,"  demanded  M.  Peille,  sharply. 

At  the  mention  of  his  brother's  name  Boughton 
tried  to  rouse  himself  and  looked  up  at  Crow. 

"He  didn't  do  it,"  he  murmured,  feebly.   "I  .  .  . 


304         CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

It  was  I  who  killed  her  ...  for  his  sake  ...  I 
...  I  owed  it  to  him." 

Then  he  lapsed  into  silence  once  more.  When 
the  doctor  arrived  with  the  ambulance  he  shook 
his  head  gravely  and  expressed  the  doubt  that 
Boughton  would  survive  the  journey  to  the  hospital. 

"Well,  M.  Crow,"  said  the  Commissaire,  a  little 
later,  "I  offer  you  my  homage.  As  in  the  affaire 
Jehnan  you  were  right  from  the  beginning.  His 
revolver,  I  see,  is  a  -45  centimetres  as  you  suspected." 

"Yes,  I  never  had  any  doubt  about  that,  M.  Peille." 

"And  do  you  think  he  spoke  the  truth  when  he 
said  that  he  killed  Mile.  Maguire?" 

"No,  I  am  more  than  ever  convinced  that  it  was 
his  brother.  Boughton,  of  course,  knew  that  he  was 
dying;  but  apart  from  that  I  should  have  expected 
him  to  confess  to  the  crime.  He  was  devoted  to 
Charles  and  did  the  same  thing  in  London  when 
he  knew  that  there  was  going  to  be  trouble.  He 
sent  his  brother  out  of  the  country  and  himself 
remained  to  face  the  consequences.  Scoundrel  that 
he  was,  he  had  his  good  qualities." 

The  Commissaire  shrugged. 

"Eh  bien!"  he  said.  "It  will  not  be  long  before  I 
know  for  certain." 

"You  are  going  to  Corsica?" 

"I  have  ordered  a  sea-plane  to  be  ready  to  leave 
Nice  harbour  for  Ajaccio  in  an  hour's  time." 

"You  think  it  will  be  easy  to  find  him?" 

"Yes,  with  the  aid  of  the  Corsican  gendarmerie. 


BOUGHTON     FAILS     AGAIN  305 

I  am  taking  an  interpreter  with  me  and  hope  to  get 
a  full  confession  out  of  Charles  Carthew.  And  now, 
M.  Crow,  you  are  naturally  thinking  about  your 
young  friend  over  at  Nice.  He  will,  of  course,  be 
released  at  once.  You  will  be  coming  over?" 

Martin  Crow  looked  at  his  watch. 

"It  is  only  just  four  o'clock,"  he  replied.  "I  shall 
lie  down  for  two  or  three  hours  and  then,  no  doubt, 
Mile.  Trent  will  order  the  car  to  take  me  over.  I 
will  be  at  the  Prefecture  at  about  eight.  I  should  like 
to  bring  him  back  to  his  fiancee." 

"Eight  o'clock.  By  that  time  I  hope  to  be  on  my 
way  to  Corsica,  but  M.  Maguire  will  be  waiting 
for  you  in  my  office.  I  shall  let  you  know  as  soon  as 
I  have  any  news.  You  will  be  remaining  in  Roque- 
brune  for  some  time?" 

Martin  Crow  smiled. 

"I  came  here  for  a  holiday,  M.  Peille,  but  I  have 
been  working  very  hard  during  the  last  fortnight. 
It  is  probable  that  my  daughter  will  insist  upon 
my  remaining  for  another  week  or  ten  days." 

"Ah,  Mademoiselle!  She  takes  care  of  her  father, 
no?" 

"Yes.  I  am  afraid  that  she  is  too  fond  of  getting 
her  own  way  where  I  am  concerned;  and  she  gets 
it  far  too  often,"  Crow  answered. 

It  was  going  to  be  warm  again.  A  light  haze  hung 
over  Monte  Carlo  and  the  Tete  du  Chien.  The 
Pension  garden  was  filled  with  the  murmur  of  the 


306          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

bees  as  they  sucked  honey  from  the  orange  flowers, 
and  on  the  stone  wall  by  the  gate  three  or  four 
green  lizards  were  lazily  sunning  themselves.  Gerry 
and  Alison  were  sitting  in  the  little  arbour,  waiting 
for  Martin  Crow.  It  was  nearly  ten  o'clock. 

"I  wonder  what  is  keeping  him,"  Gerry  said, 
after  a  long  silence. 

"Do  you  think  that  he  discovered  something 
about  Coral  Trent  when  he  was  in  England?" 

"I  don't  know.  I  couldn't  get  a  word  out  of  him 
yesterday  when  he  rang  up.  I  get  so  furious  with  him 
when  he  is  in  one  of  those  silent,  mysterious  moods." 

At  that  moment  Mile.  Antoinette  came  running 
out  of  the  house. 

"Mam'selle!  Have  you  heard  what  has  happened 
up  at  the  Villa  Gloria?"  she  cried,  beside  herself 
with  excitement. 

"What?"  in  anxious  tones  from  both  Gerry  and 
Alison. 

"The  butler  has  been  shot  and  taken  to  the 
hospital  at  Nice." 

"Boughton!    Who  shot  him?"  questioned  Gerry. 

"I  don't  know,  but  I  have  just  been  talking  to  M. 
Bandol,  who  delivers  the  telegrams,  and  he  says  that 
the  Commissaire  telephoned  from  the  villa  at  three 
o'clock  this  morning  for  the  doctor  and  an  ambulance. 
M.  Bandol  got  it  from  the  cook  at  the  villa  half  an  hour 
ago  and  she  said  the  butler  was  in  a  grave  condition." 

"Did  she  say  anything  about  my  father?"  Gerry 
asked  anxiously. 


BOUGHTON     FAILS     AGAIN  307 

"No,  Mam'selle,  she " 

"Michael!" 

Alison  had  jumped  up  and  was  running  across 
the  garden  towards  Michael  and  Crow  who  had 
just  entered  by  the  upper  gate.  Crow  left  the  two 
young  people  to  themselves  and  joined  his  daughter. 

"I  am  sorry  that  we  are  so  late,  my  dear,"  he 
said  as  he  kissed  her,  "but  it  was  quite  impossible 
for  us  to  get  here  any  sooner.  That  young  man 
insisted  upon  going  to  a  shop  and  buying  a  complete 
outfit  before  he  showed  himself  here.  He  certainly 
was  looking  rather  shabby." 

"But  did  you  know  that  you  would  be  bringing 
him  when  you  rang  up  yesterday?" 

Mile.  Antoinette  had  rushed  into  the  house  to 
tell  her  mother  that  M.  Maguire  had  returned  and 
that  everyone  was  happy  once  more.  Michael  and 
Alison  were  still  talking  at  the  far  end  of  the  terrace. 

"I  wasn't  certain,  my  dear,"  Crow  answered, 
"but  I  was  counting  on  it.  That  is  why  I  suggested 
having  petit  dejeuner  out  here  at  nine.  I  thought 
it  would  be  a  fitting  setting  for  a  happy  reunion." 

"What  is  this  we  have  just  heard  about  Boughton 
being  shot,  Father?" 

"It  is  quite  true,  and  it  makes  a  long  story  which 
I  will  relate  as  soon  as  we  have  had  something  to 
eat.  Poor  fellow.  He  won't  trouble  this  world  any 
more." 

"He  is  dead?" 

"He  died  on  the  way  to  the  hospital." 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

M.    PEILLE  APOLOGISES 

IT    doesn't    really  matter  to  me  whether  a  court 
would   uphold  the  will   or  not,"    Michael   was 
saying  two  mornings  later  when  they  were  all  sitting 
in  the  Pension  garden.    "Coral  must  have  her  half 
share  and  the  villa." 

"That,  of  course,  is  reasonable,"  said  Martin 
Crow  as  he  ran  his  fingers  through  the  white  stubble 
on  his  head,  "but  I  felt  that  I  ought  to  tell  you  that 
a  judge  might  not  accept  the  maiden-name  signature. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  I  do  not  think  that  Coral  will 
say  thank  you  for  the  villa." 

"And  I  don't  think  that  Michael  and  I  would 
feel  like  going  there,"  said  Alison. 

"I  can  understand  your  feelings,  my  dear,"  said 
Crow,  "although  I  should  not  mind  having  it  as  a 
retreat  when  the  winters  in  England  are  particularly 
objectionable.  I " 

"Pardon,  M.  Crow,  but  M.  Peille  is  here  and 
wishes  to  see  you  and  M.  Maguire." 

It  was  Mademoiselle  Antoinette  who  had  just 
come  out  from  the  house. 

"M.  Peille!  Back  already!  Will  you  ask  him  to 
come  out,  Mademoiselle?" 

308 


M.     PEILLE     APOLOGISES  309 

A  few  moments  later  the  Commissaire,  looking 
very  tired  and  hot,  came  across  to  the  arbour.  He 
appeared  to  be  a  little  nervous  as  he  made  a  low 
bow. 

"I  arrived  back  from  Corsica  two  hours  ago  and 
I  have  come  here  to  offer  to  you  all  my  sincere 
apologies,"  he  said,  speaking  French.  Then,  turning 
to  Michael  he  bowed  again  and  said,  in  English, 
"M.  Maguire,  I  am  so  sorree;  so  sorree  that  I  cannot 
tell  you." 

Michael  smiled  and  offered  his  hand  which  the 
Commissaire  gripped. 

"It  has  all  been  a  terrible  mistake  of  which  I  am 
profoundly  ashamed,"  the  latter  said,  reverting  to 
his  native  language.  "I  felt  that  I  owed  it  to  you  all 
to  bring  you  the  news  of  the  denouement." 

"You  found  him?"  asked  Crow. 

"Yes."     A  pause.    "And  now  he,  too,  is  dead." 

"What?  Charles  Carthew?"  Crow  exclaimed. 
"Please  sit  down  and  tell  us  all  about  it." 

"Yesterday,"  M.  Peille  began,  when  they  were 
all  seated,  "a  little  after  midday,  I  and  M.  Sigean, 
the  interpreter,  arrived  at  the  Cafe  Bellacosia  and 
asked  the  patron  for  M.  Carthew.  There  were 
several  people  in  the  restaurant  taking  their  dejeuner 
at  the  time  and  I  had  scarcely  mentioned  the  name 
when  there  was  a  report,  and  a  man  sitting  at  a 
small  table  in  a  corner  fell  sideways  on  to  the  floor." 

"He  shot  himself?"  asked  Michael.  Crow  trans- 
lated the  question. 


310          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

"That  is  so,  Monsieur.  Afterwards  the  patron 
told  me  that  his  English  guest  had  seemed  like  a 
hunted  animal  ever  since  his  arrival  nearly  a  fort- 
night ago.  However,  we  rushed  across  to  him. 
There  was  no  doubt.  He  had  the  red  hair  and  the 
figure  that  you,  M.  Crow,  described.  There,  at 
Pentica,  there  is  no  doctor  near  and  two  hours 
passed  before  one  arrived  from  Bocognano,  and  by 
that  time  he  had  given  up  his  last  breath.  We  picked 
him  up  from  the  floor  and  carried  him  upstairs 
and  laid  him  on  a  bed  and  there  I  began  to  question 
him,  but  could  get  no  answer  until  I  told  him  that 
if  he  would  speak  he  might  save  his  brother  from 
the  guillotine.  He " 

"You  told  him  that?"  asked  Crow,  in  a  dis- 
approving tone. 

"But  yes.  I  was  determined  that  I  should  know 
the  truth,  and  I  suspected  that  he  could  not  live 
for  long.  As  with  Boughton,  the  bullet  must  have 
entered  the  lung.  Then,  with  difficulty,  and  with 
many  pauses,  he  made  a  partial  confession.  He 
began  by  declaring  that  his  brother  was  innocent 
and  that  it  was  he  who  had  killed  Mile.  Maguire. 
He  spoke  of  his  crime  in  Australia.  He  was  destitute, 
he  said  and  scarcely  realised  what  he  was  doing. 
When  he  came  out  of  prison  he  wrote  to  Ernest, 
in  England,  and  told  him  that  he  had  married  a 
very  wealthy  English  woman,  giving  her  maiden 
name,  also  the  name  of  her  home.  He  said  that 
he  would  like  to  get  into  touch  with  her,  but  did 


M.     PEILLE     APOLOGISES  31! 

not  dare  to  come  to  England  because  he  knew  that 
he  might  be  arrested.  After  several  weeks  Ernest 
replied.  He  said  that  things  had  been  going  very 
badly  for  him;  he  had  only  been  able  to  get  occa- 
sional employment  but  now,  after  encountering 
great  difficulties,  he  had  succeeded  in  entering 
Mile.  Maguire's  employment  as  her  maitre  d'hotel. 
He  had  worked  hard  for  this  because  he  thought 
that  they  might,  between  them,  get  a  good  sum  of 
money  out  of  Mademoiselle.  Ernest  said  that  his 
mistress  spent  each  winter  on  the  Cote  d'Azur  and 
he  advised  Charles  to  work  his  way  to  Marseilles 
and  then  visit  his  wife.  He  took  that  advice,  pre- 
sented himself  to  Mile.  Maguire  and  induced  her 
to  make  him  an  allowance  of  five  hundred  livres 
sterling  a  year,  on  the  conditions  which  you  related 
to  me.  A  few  weeks  ago,  finding  himself  heavily 
in  debt,  he  decided  that  he  must  take  drastic  steps 
to  get  more  money.  At  first  he  decided  that  he  would 
try  to  blackmail  her,  and  then  the  idea  occurred  to 
him  that  if  he  could  only  destroy  her  will — which, 
according  to  his  brother,  was  kept  in  the  safe  at 
the  villa — and  then  murder  her  he  would  inherit 
the  whole  fortune." 

"You  did  not  tell  him  that  Ernest  had  confessed 
to  having  committed  the  crime?"  Crow  asked. 

"No.  I  tried  to  induce  him  to  tell  me  what  part 
his  brother  had  played,  but  he  would  say  nothing 
until  I  told  him  that  Ernest  had  made  two  unsuc- 
cessful attempts  to  kill  you,  that  he  had  been  shot 


312          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

dead  whilst  making  the  second  effort,  and  that 
M.  Maguire  was  being  charged  with  having  mur- 
dered his  aunt." 

"You  were  determined  to  know  everything,  M. 
Peille,"  said  Crow,  who  did  not  quite  approve  of 
the  Commissaire's  methods. 

"But  naturally.  It  was  for  that  reason,  as  well 
as  to  arrest  him,  that  I  went  to  Corsica.  And  I  was 
successful.  He  told  me  all  I  wished  to  know.  He 
admitted  that  it  was  Ernest  who  told  him  that  there 
was  certain  to  be  a  violent  quarrel  between  Mile. 
Maguire  and  her  nephew  and  that  it  would  be  an 
opportunity  for  murdering  the  woman.  Ernest,  as 
you  suspected,  planned  it  all.  On  Tuesday  night 
he  complained  to  the  other  servants  of  feeling 
indisposed  and  went  up  to  bed  early,  taking  care  that 
Mile.  Trent  saw  him  going  into  his  bedroom.  He 
stayed  there  for  only  a  few  minutes  and  then  lowered 
himself  out  of  the  window  by  a  rope,  joining  Charles 
in  the  garden. 

"Together  they  listened  at  the  library  window. 
As  soon  as  M.  Maguire  left  the  room  Ernest  entered 
the  salon  by  the  window  and  went  into  the  hall 
where  he  kept  watch.  He  heard  the  blow  being 
struck  with  the  candlestick  and  then  entered  the 
library.  Charles  toldjiim  that  he  was  going  to  destroy 
the  two  wills,  which  he  had  found  on  the  writing 
table,  and  would  then  search  the  safe.  Charles 
found  the  five  mille  notes  and  Ernest  suggested  that 
they  should  be  hidden  amongst  M.  Maguire's 


M.     PEILLE     APOLOGISES  313 

clothes  in  his  room.  At  that  moment  Ernest  heard 
a  door  being  opened  upstairs  and  he  told  Charles 
to  make  his  escape  by  the  window.  Charles  did 
so  and  walked  over  to  Monte  Carlo  where  he  caught 
the  last  train  to  Marseilles. 

"For  the  rest  we  can  only  imagine  that  Ernest 
did  not  have  time  to  close  and  fasten  the  library 
window,  as  he  had  probably  arranged  to  do,  but 
slipped  into  the  salon  and  saw  M.  Maguire  coming 
down  the  stairs  through  the  glass  doors." 

"Almost  word  for  word  as  you  said,  Father," 
Gerry  exclaimed. 

"Yes,  I  wasn't  very  far  out,  was  I,  my  dear?" 
Crow  said,  and  then  translated  the  Commissaire's 
story  for  the  benefit  of  Alison  and  Michael,  who 
had  only  understood  fragments  of  it." 

"And  Mile.  Trent,  she  is  still  at  the  villa?"  asked 
M.  Peille. 

"No,  she  did  not  feel  like  remaining  there," 
Gerry  replied.  "She  is  staying  at  the  Chateau 
Diodato." 

"But  of  course;  that  is  reasonable.  She  has  any 
news  of  M.  Berwick?" 

"She  is  expecting  him  to  return  to-day." 

"Ah!    She  knew  where  he  was?" 

"Yes.  She  has  explained  everything  to  me.  The 
young  man  took  fright  when  you  asked  him  to  give 
you  his  finger-prints.  I  understand  that  they  will 
be  married  quite  soon." 

"Ah!   So  it  was  a  little  romance  after  all?"  smiled 


314          CRIME     AT     THE     VILLA     GLORIA 

the  Commissaire.  "And  may  I  ask  if  there  will  be 
another  wedding  before  very  long?" 

"As  soon  as  we  get  back  to  England,"  Crow 
replied. 

M.  Peille  stood  up  and  made  a  solemn  bow  to 
Alison  and  Michael. 

"Mile.  Beamish,  M.  Maguire,"  he  said,  impres- 
sively, "I  ask  your  pardon  for  my  inability  to  speak 
your  language,  but  my  respected  colleague  here  will 
tell  you  what  I  am  saying.  From  the  depths  of  my 
heart  I  again  express  to  you  my  most  profound 
regrets  for  all  that  you  have  both  suffered,  and  I  can 
only  say  that  I  shall  feel  deeply  honoured  if  you 
will  show  your  forgiveness  by  sending  me  an  invita- 
tion to  your  wedding.  It  will  not  be  possible  for  me 
to  accept  it,  but  I  shall  treasure  it." 

"Not  only  will  we  send  you  an  invitation,"  said 
Alison  when  Crow  had  translated  the  Commis- 
saire's  speech,  "but  you  shall  have  a  large  slice  of 
wedding  cake." 

"Mademoiselle,  you  are  too  good,"  replied  M. 
Peille  as  he  stood  up  and  shook  hands.  Something 
glinted  in  the  corner  of  his  eye.  He  brushed  it 
brusquely  away  with  his  handkerchief,  and  wished 
them  all  good  day. 


JAN  1  7 1938 


